Incline thou, O mother of sorrow, Thy gracious face upon my need! A sword unsparing Thy heart is tearing. Thou seest how thine own Son must bleed. With eyes imploring, Thy sighs outpouring. Thou prayest for His and thy great need. Who feeleth How stealeth My pain through every bone? How my poor, poor heart is quaking, How with longing it is aching, Thou canst know alone, alone! Wherever I am turning, With what a sore, sore burning My bosom ever aches! When I am left alone now, I weep and weep and moan now, My heart within me breaks. The plants before my window I watered with tears--oh, see!-- When in the early morning I broke these flowers for thee. Yes, when the sun was shining In at my room to-day, In bed I sat up pining So early, in dismay. Help! Rescue me from death--disgrace! Incline thou, Oh, mother of sorrow, Upon my need thy gracious face! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY FATHER'S FACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO SEE THE STARS IN DAYLIGHT by JAMES GALVIN PRECIOUS WORDS by EMILY DICKINSON A VALEDICTION: OF WEEPING by JOHN DONNE THE CITY OF GOD by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1822-1882) THE ARAB TO HIS FAVORITE STEED by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON |