Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Life's Autumn

Great giver of my lovely green in Spring,
A dancing, singing green upon my tree, 
My green has passed; 

I have no song to sing;
What will my Autumn be?

Must it be, though alive, 
as all but dead, 
A heavy-footed and 
a silent thing?
Effectless, sapless, tedious, limited,
A withered vanishing?


Thus I; but He to me:
"Have I not shown 
In Autumn woodland and on mountain fell
The splendor of My purpose for Mine own?
Fear not, for all is well. 

"And thou shalt see, My child,
what I will do,
For as thy lingering Autumn days unfold,
The lovely, singing green of hitherto
Will come to thee in gold."

--Amy Carmichael