CHILD of My love, lean hard.

And let Me feel the pressure of thy care.

I know thy burden, child; I shaped it.

Poised it in Mine own hand, made no proportion

In its weight to thine unaided strength;

For even as I laid it on, I said,

“I shall be near, and while she leans on Me,

This burden shall be Mine, not hers:

So shall I keep My child within the circling arms

Of Mine own love.” Here lay it down, nor fear

To impose it on the shoulder, which upholds

The government of worlds.

Yet closer come;

Thou art not near enough; I would embrace thy care.

So I might feel My child reposing on My breast.

Thou lovest Me? I know it. Doubt not then;

But, loving Me, lean hard.

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