A Better Resurrection
I have no wit, no words, no tears; 
My heart within me like a stone 
Is numb’d too much for hopes or fears; 
Look right, look left, I dwell alone; 
I lift mine eyes, but dimm’d with grief 
No everlasting hills I see; 
My life is in the falling leaf: 
O Jesus, quicken me. 

My life is like a faded leaf, 
My harvest dwindled to a husk: 
Truly my life is void and brief 
And tedious in the barren dusk; 
My life is like a frozen thing, 
No bud nor greenness can I see: 
Yet rise it shall—the sap of Spring; 
O Jesus, rise in me. 

My life is like a broken bowl, 
A broken bowl that cannot hold 
One drop of water for my soul 
Or cordial in the searching cold; 
Cast in the fire the perish’d thing; 
Melt and remould it, till it be 
A royal cup for Him, my King: 
O Jesus, drink of me.