Women of the Early Harlem Renaissance: African American Women Writers 1900-1922


I'll faint no more beneath the burden
   My Lord has given me to bear,
What matter if my heart is laden,
   And sadness finds a refuge there?

He promised not unbroken gladness,
   If we would trace His bleeding feet,
But strength to bear life's toil and sadness,
   To overcome the foes we meet.

What matter if the way be narrow?
   We have His loving sympathy;
Did He not tread earth's path of sorrow.
   From Bethlehem to Calvary?

And are we better than the Master,
   Who bore for us mortality?
Or wiser than the Heavenly Father,
   Whose great love suffered this to be?

I'll trust the God, whose great compassion
   Sent to Gethsemane His Son,
Who shamed forever our rebellion.
   When there He prayed:—"Thy will be done."

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