We Are Children

CHILDREN indeed are we — children that wait
Within a wondrous Dwelling, while on high
Stretch the sad vapours and the voiceless sky;
The House is fair, yet all is desolate
Because our Father comes not; clouds of fate
Sadden above us — shivering we espy
The passing rain, the cloud before the gate,
And cry to one another, ' He is nigh! '
At early morning, with a shining Face,
He left us innocent and lily-crown'd;
And now 'tis late — night cometh on apace —
We hold each other's hands and look around,
Frighted at our own shades! Heaven send us grace!
When He returns, all will be sleeping sound.