Earlier this week I picked up a collection of poems by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and found myself weeping as I read “De Profundis.” I am not at the point of being able to mean and will the words that I am about to type. But, I am at a point of hoping that it will someday be possible.
For us whatever’s undergone,
Thou knowest, willest what is done.
Grief may be joy misunderstood;
Only the Good discerns the good.
I trust Thee while my days go on.
Whatever’s lost, it first was won,
We will not struggle nor impugn.
Perhaps the cup was broken here,
That Heaven’s new wine might show more clear.
I praise Thee while my days go on.
And for the verse that stood out the most strongly and poignantly:
I praise Thee while my days go on;
I love Thee while my days go on:
Through dark and dearth, through fire and frost,
With emptied arms and treasure lost,
I thank Thee while my days go on.