The little sharp vexations
And the briars that catch and fret,
Why not take all to the Helper
Who had never failed us yet?
Tell Him about the heartache
And tell Him the longings, too;
Tell Him the baffled purpose
When we scarce know what to do.
Then leaving all our weakness
With the One divinely strong,
Forget that we bore the burden,
And carry away the song.
-Phillips Brooks
