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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.
Other works by Christina Georgina Rossetti ...
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