Poems (Kimball)/"It is I"

by Harriet McEwen Kimball

"IT IS I."

" IT is so hard!" I said,
And sat within and told my troubles o'er;
 A hand fell softly on my bowèd head,
Yet no one passed my door.

 "A fancy!" then I said;
"But oh! to feel that touch forevermore!
 Methinks, indeed, I could be comforted!"
And sorrowed as before.

 "No other heart can know!"
Brake out my grief again with bitter cry;
 "And God is far— so far my faith lets go
Her hold on Heaven to die!"

 Then someone stoopèd low,
His heart full-throbbing, as with tears, dose by:
 "Lord! is it Thou so movèd by my woe?"
He answered, "It is I."