Poems (Kimball)/Apprehension

by Harriet McEwen Kimball

APPREHENSION.

DEAR Lord, this day is so unlike
 The day I feared that it would be!
I wonder much, I said last night,
 What it will bring to me.

What does it mean,—this haunting dread?
 What added sorrows wait me more,
And o'er my trembling spirit spread
 Their shadows thus before?

I seemed to stand upon a brink,
 Yet could not see the gulf below;
It dizzied me to try to think,
 As with some coming blow.

Dear hands I saw on either side
 Reach out as for a final kiss;
And clasping each o'er each I cried,
 Not this one, Lord; not this!

I cannot bear one parting more;
 By heart is at the point to break:
As if Thou didst not know before,
 Dear Lord, to Thee I spake.

And then I slept, the sleep of fear,
 And waked in sad bewilderment;
The day, the dreaded day, was here
 What trial would be sent?

Up to the zenith rose the sun,
 And now I watch its bright decline;
The hours have passed me one by one;
 No added griefs are mine!

Still must I feel the piercing sword
 Of what hath been or yet may be;
But from that nameless terror, Lord,
 At least I am set free.

And slowly, slowly, yet how sure,
 Returns the restful consciousness
That in Thy care I am secure,
 And chastening, Thou dost bless.

Not more than I can bear I know
 Thou, dearest Lord, on me wilt lay,
And I can learn of Thee to go
 Unfearing on my way.