Courage and patience, these I ask, Dear Lord, in this my latest strait; For hard I find my ten years' task, Learning to suffer and to wait. Life seems so rich and grand a thing, So full of work for heart and brain, It is a cross that I can bring No help, no offering, but pain. The hard-earned harvest of these years I long to generously share; The lessons learned with bitter tears To teach again with tender care; To smooth the rough and thorny way Where other feet begin to tread; To feed some hungry soul each day With sympathy's sustaining bread. So beautiful such pleasures show, I long to make them mine; To love and labor and to know The joy such living makes divine. But if I may not, I will only ask Courage and patience for my fate, And learn, dear Lord, thy latest task,– To suffer patiently and wait.
Return to the Louisa May Alcott library , or . . . Read the next poem; Our Little Ghost