50. Sleeplessness

UNWEARIED God, before whose face
    The night is clear as day,
Whilst we, poor worms, o'er life's scant race
    Now creep, and now delay,
We with death's foretaste alternate
Our labour's dint and sorrow's weight,
Save in that fever-troubled state
    When pain or care has sway.

Dread Lord! Thy glory, watchfulness,
    Is but disease in man;
We to our cost our bounds transgress
    In Thy eternal plan:
Pride grasps the powers by Thee display'd,
Yet ne'er the rebel effort made
But fell beneath the sudden shade
    Of nature's withering ban.

December 26, 1832.

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Newman Reader — Works of John Henry Newman
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