If This Be All

O God! if this indeed be all
⁠That Life can show to me;
If on my aching brow may fall
⁠No freshening dew from Thee,—

If with no brighter light than this
⁠The lamp of hope may glow,
And I may only dream of bliss,
⁠And wake to weary woe;

If friendship's solace must decay,
⁠When other joys are gone,
And love must keep so far away,
⁠While I go wandering on,—

Wandering and toiling without gain,
⁠The slave of others' will,
With constant care, and frequent pain,
⁠Despised, forgotten still;

Grieving to look on vice and sin,
⁠Yet powerless to quell
The silent current from within,
⁠The outward torrent's swell:

While all the good I would impart,
⁠The feelings I would share,
Are driven backward to my heart,
⁠And turned to wormwood, there;

If clouds must ever keep from sight
⁠The glories of the Sun,
And I must suffer Winter's blight,
⁠Ere Summer is begun;

If Life must be so full of care,
⁠Then call me soon to Thee;
Or give me strength enough to bear
⁠My load of misery.