In Time of Drought

The river of God is full of water.     - Psalm.     The rushes are black by the river bed,     And the sheep and the cattle stand     Wistful-eyed, where the waters were,     In a waste of gravel and sand;     Or pass oer their dying and dead to slake     Their thirst at the slimy pool.     Shall they pine and perish in pangs of drought     While Thy river, O God, is full.     The fields are furrowed, the seed is sown,     But no dews from the heavens are shed;     And where shall the grain for the harvest be?     And how shall the poor be fed?     In waterless gullies they winnow the earth,     New-turned by the miners tool;     And the way-farer faints neath his lightened load,1     Yet the river of God is full.     For us, O Father, from tropic seas,     Let the clouds be filled that shed     Rough rains upon Andes eastward slope,     Soft snows on Himlehs head.     Freight for us as for others thy dark-winged fleet,     That soon by the waters cool,     We may say with gladness, Our need was great,     But the river of God was full!