Month of the Seven Dolors, The School of Sorrow.
by VP
Posted on Friday September 04, 2020 at 01:11PM in Poetry
I sat in the school of sorrow, The Master was teaching there; But my eyes were dim with weeping, And my heart was full of care. Instead of looking upward, And seeing His face Divine So full of the tenderest pity For weary hearts like mine. I only thought of the burdens, The cross that before me lay, So hard and heavy to carry That it darkened the light of day. So, I could not learn my lesson, And say, Thy will be done; And the Master came not near me As the weary hours went on. At last in my weary sorrow, I looked from the cross above, And I saw the Master watching With a glance of tender love. He turned to the cross before me, And I thought I heard Him say: "My child, thou must bear thy burden And learn thy task to-day. I may not tell the reason, ' Tis enough for thee to know That I, the Master, am teaching, And give this cup of woe." So I stooped to that weary sorrow; One look at that face Divine Had given me power to trust Him, And say, " Thy will, not mine." And thus I learnt my lesson, Taught by the Master alone; He only knows the tears I shed, But He has wept His own. And from them comes a brightness Straight from the Home above, Where the School Life will be ended, And the cross will show the love.
