The Waiting Soul.
Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord, And cheer me from the north; Blow on the treasures of thy word, And call the spices forth! I wish, thou knowst, to be resignd, And wait with patient hope; But hope delayd fatigues the mind, And drinks the spirit up. Help me to reach the distant goal, Confirm my feeble knee; Pity the sickness of a soul That faints for love of thee. Cold as I feel this heart of mine, Yet, since I feel it so, It yields some hope of life divine Within, however low. I seem forsaken and alone, I hear the lion roar; And evry door is shut but one, And that is mercys door. There, till the dear Delivrer come, Ill wait with humble prayr; An when he calls his exile home, The Lord shall find me there.
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"Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord,..."
This evocative piece by William Cowper, titled "The Waiting Soul.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...