REST.

New Zealand Graphic, 24 December 1891, Page 14

REST.

The following is from the ‘Collected Poems of Father Abram J. Ryan,’ and was, we believe, the favourite of the late Sir John Macdonald

■Y feet are wearied, and my hands are tired. My soul oppressed— And I desire, what I have long desired — Rest—only rest.

’Tis hard to toil—when toil is almost vain, In barren ways ; ’Tis hard to sow—and never garner grain, In harvest days.

The burden of my days is hard to bear, But God knows best : And I have prayed—but vain has been my prayer For rest—sweet rest.

’Tis hard to plant in spring and never reap The autumn yield; ’Tis hard to till, and when tilled to weep O’er fruitless field.

And so I cry, a weak and human cry, So heart oppressed ; And I sigh, a weak and human sigh, For rest—for rest.

My way has wound across the desert years, And cares infest My path, and through the flowing of hot tears I pine—for rest.

’Twas always so ; when but a child I laid On mother’s breast My wearied little head ; e’en then I prayed As now—for rest.

And I am restless still ; ’twill soon be o'er ; For, down the west, Life’s sun is setting, and I see the shore Where I shall rest.