TO whom, O Saviour, shall we go For life, and joy, and light? No help, no comfort from below, No lasting gladness we may know, No hope may bless our sight. Our souls are weary and athirst, But earth is iron-bound and cursed, And nothing she may yield can stay The restless yearnings day by day; Yet, without Thee, Redeemer blest, We would not, if we could, find rest. To whom, O Saviour, shall we go? We gaze around in vain. Though pleasure's fairy lute be strung, And mirth's enchaining lay be sung, We dare not trust the strain. The touch of sorrow or of sin Hath saddened all, without, within: What here we fondly love and prize, However beauteous be its guise, Has passed, is passing, or may pass, Like frost-fringe on the autumn grass. To whom, O Saviour, shall we go? Our spirits dimly wait In the dungeon of our mortal frame; And only one of direful name Can force its sin-barred gate. Our loved ones can but greet us through The prison grate, from which we view All outward things. They enter not: Thou, Thou alone, canst cheer our lot. O Christ, we long for Thee to dwell Within our solitary cell! To whom, O Saviour, shall we go? Unless Thy voice we hear, All tuneless falls the sweetest song, And lonely seems the busiest throng Unless we feel Thee near. We dare not think what earth would be, Thou Heaven-Creator, but for Thee; A howling chaos, wild and dark -- One flood of horror, while no ark, Upborne above the gloom-piled wave, From one great death-abyss might save. To whom, O Saviour, shall we go? The Tempter's power is great; E'en in our hearts is evil bound, And, lurking stealthily around, Still for our souls doth wait. Thou tempted One, whose suffering heart In all our sorrows bore a part, Whose life-blood only could atone, Too weak are we to stand alone; And nothing but Thy shield of light Can guard us in the dreaded flight. To whom, O Saviour, shall we go? The night of death draws near; Its shadow must be passed alone, No friend can with our souls go down The untried way to cheer. Thou hast the words of endless life; Thou givest victory in the strife; Thou only art the changeless Friend, On whom for aye we may depend: In life, in death, alike we flee, O Saviour of the world! to THEE. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PAST AND PRESENT by THOMAS HOOD ON HEARING OF INTENTION .. TO PURCHASE THE POET'S FREEDOM by GEORGE MOSES HORTON UNMANIFEST DESTINY by RICHARD HOVEY LINES; SUGGESTED BY GRAVES TWO ENGLISH SOLDIERS ON CONCORD by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL ANNE by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 114 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE DEAD MISTRESS by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE TO MRS W. ON HER EXCELLENT VERSES WRITTEN IN A FIT OF SICKNESS by APHRA BEHN |