Thou knowest all; I seek in vain
What lands to till or sow with seed –
The land is black with briar and weed
Nor cares for falling tears or rain
Thou knowest all; I sit and wait
With blinded eyes and hands that fail
'Till the last lifting of the veil
And the first opening of the gate
Thou knowest all; I cannot see
I trust I shall not live in vain
I know that we shall meet again