Thou dear and mystic semblance, Before whose form I kneel, I tremble as I think upon The glory thou dost veil, . And ask myself, can he who late The ways of darkness trod, Meet face to face, and heart to heart, His sin-avenging God? My Judge and my Creator, If I presume to stand Amid Thy pure and holy ones, It is Thy command, To lay before Thy mercy's seat My sorrows and my fears, To wail my life and kiss Thy feet In silence and in tears. Oh God! that dreadful moment, In sickness and in strife, When Death and Hell seemed watching For the last weak pulse of life, When on the waves of sip and pain My drowning soul was toss'd, Thy hand of mercy saved me then When hope itself was lost! I hear Thy voice, my Saviour, It speaks within my breast: Oh, come to Me, thou weary one, I'll hush thy cares to rest;" Then from the parched and burning waste Of sin where long I trod I come to Thee, Thou stream of life, My Saviour and my God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF CLAPHAM ACADEMY by THOMAS HOOD AN ODE IN IMITATION OF ALCAEUS by WILLIAM JONES SOLITUDE by ELLA WHEELER WILCOX FESSEDEN'S GARDEN by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN THE WINTER-SPRING by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |