The moonbeams fall in a shower
   Of silvery, shimmering light,
And the stars look out of the heavens
   With their brightest smile to-night.
There's a sleeping world around me,
   But I cannot sleep, somehow,
And I sit here at the window
   With my hands clasped on my brow.

Somewhere in this vale of sorrow
   There are lives bowed down with care,
There are eyes that see the moonlight,
   And do not think it fair.
There are hearts that think of the morrow
   As holding naught but pain,
And they long for that dreamless slumber
   That breaks not here again.

And I weep alone in the moonlight
   For these souls weighed down by grief--
Weep in my bitter sorrow
   That I cannot give relief--
That I cannot help or comfort
   Those suffering ones to-night,
Who lie in their bitter sorrow
   And wait for the morning light.

Oh! the Lord has shown such mercy,
   And has been so kind alway,
That I know not how to thank Him,
   Nor how to half repay.
But I think if I just could comfort
   His children that are sad,
That it, may be, would please Him,
   And make the angels glad.

And my heart is full of yearning
   For His lost and wounded sheep,
But I know not how to reach them,
   And I sit alone and weep.
Oh! give me work, my Master,
   And show me where to go,
Or my heart will grow unloving
   With its selfish joys, I know.

by Ella Wheeler

Arthur's Home Magazine (Oct. 1869): 207.

Provided courtesy of Janet Wanstrath.

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