28
STEVENSON'S POEMS
THIS GLOOMY NORTHERN DAY
This gloomy northern day,
Or this yet gloomier night,
Has moved a something high
In my cold heart; and I,
That do not often pray,
Would pray to-night.
And first on Thee I call
For bread, O God of might!
Enough of bread for all,—
That through the famished town
Cold hunger may lie down
With none to-night.
I pray for hope no less,
Strong-sinewed hope, O Lord,
That to the struggling young
May preach with brazen tongue
Stout Labour, high success,
And bright reward.
And last, O Lord, I pray
For hearts resigned and bold
To trudge the dusty way—
Hearts stored with song and joke
And warmer than a cloak
Against the cold.
