Nondum

One night while reading some poetry by Gerald Manley Hopkins, David found the following poem. He came and read it to me and I thought the following stanzas were the most beautiful. Ironically, a week later we were called to give a talk in our ward on prayer. 

God, though to Thee our psalm we raise

No answering voice comes from the skies;

To Thee the trembling sinner prays

But no forgiving voice replies;

Our prayer seems lost in desert ways,

Our hymn in the vast silence dies....

Oh! till Thou givest that sense beyond,

To show Thee that Thou are, and near,

Let patience with her chastening wand

Dispel the doubt and dry the tear;

And lead me child-like by the hand

If still in darkness not in fear...