She
was yet alone.
Among her papers remains this pathetic petition:--
'I am weary of thinking. I suffer great fatigue from living.
Oh God, take me! take me wholly! Thou knowest that I love none
but Thee. All this beautiful poesy of my being lies in Thee.
Deeply I feel it. I ask nothing. Each desire, each passionate
feeling, is on the surface only; inmostly Thou keepest me
strong and pure. Yet always to be thus going out into moments,
into nature, and love, and thought! Father, I am weary!
Reassume me for a while, I pray Thee. Oh let me rest awhile in
Thee, Thou only Love! In the depth of my prayer I suffer much.
Take me only awhile. No fellow-being will receive me. I cannot
pause; they will not detain me by their love. Take me awhile,
and again I will go forth on a renewed service. It is not that
I repine, my Father, but I sink from want of rest, and none
will shelter me. Thou knowest it all. Bathe me in the living
waters of Thy Love.'
VII.
THE FRIEND.
* * * * *
Yet, conscious as she was of an unfulfilled destiny, and of an
undeveloped being, Margaret was no pining sentimentalist.
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