The Man of Sorrows visited today. I did not see his face but knew his mood. In an early morning dream I felt his grey Familiar presence bidding me to brood,
Enticing me to go within and grieve. He showed me loss and willingly shared my pain And in my nightmare journey helped me weave The darkened past to thread the light again.
All sun-bright memories he would despoil With taint of tears on a tormented breast, The mind with death and darknessesembroil, Denying peace and troubling with unrest.
He comes in moments of the being's stress, Not often now the consciousness is turned A fraction more towards the hands that bless, The love drawn near for which my soul has yearned.
Poems Undated (1727)
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