Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
VI. Human ExperienceThe World
Frederick William Faber (18141863)
T
Five thousand years their tale have told;
Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be,—
Why is it? why is it? Oh, answer me!
It is sweet to the taste, and smooth to the touch;
Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be,—
Why is it? why is it? Oh, answer me!
And full of life in its breadth and length;
Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be,—
Why is it? why is it? Oh, answer me!
Its borrowed beauty might make it too dear,
Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be—
Why is it? why is it? Oh, answer me!
There is rest by night and high spirits by day;
Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be,—
Why is it? why is it? Oh, answer me!
And the earth is peopled with holy things;
Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be,—
Why is it? why is it? Oh, answer me!
Why,—thy faith hath gone out, and thy love grown cold;
Thou art not happy, as thou mightest be,
For the want of Christ’s simplicity.
Who shall make thy love hot for thee, frozen old world?
Thou art not happy, as thou mightest be,
For the love of dear Jesus is little in thee.
Remember that Christ must have his own way;
I mourn thou art not as thou mightest be,
But the love of God would do all for thee.