The Sad Years Poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter

Thou hast encompassed us, indeed, O Lord,
With these sad years. Where does the failure lie
Of this Thy man, made to Thy likeness, since
Within the golden mirror of the sun
Thou gavest Thy sweet loveliness and didst
Then gather dust to mould him to Thy shape,
And stood him upright on Thy holy palm
To view his form and praise Thy handiwork?
Is this Thy likeness then, Thy perfect mould,
Thy hands, Thy feet, Thy voice, Thy sacred heart,
A god in miniature, of Eden made?

Hands, hands, hands, tearing, grasping, slaying,
Cold, stiff, still, soothing, strangling, praying.
Feet, feet, feet, running, toiling, stamping,
Crushing, killing, falling, stumbling, tramping.
Cries, cries, cries, brutal, broken, wailing,
Sobbing, helpless, anguished, dying, failing.
Hearts, hearts, hearts, loving, hating, seeking,
Hearts of all Thy children, breaking, breaking.

Is this, indeed, Thy man, that Thou hast made,
Is this Thy likeness, and are these Thy ways?
Oh, Lord of pity, quench these flaming hours,
Restore to peace these sad and tortured years
Wherein Thou breakest the frail heart of man
—Or he the heart of God.