2.
“O let the sorrowful sighing of the prisoners come before
Thee; according to the greatness of Thy power preserve Thou
those that are appointed to die.”
From this Thy Mercy-seat, before all eyes,
Thou stretchest forth Thine arms unto all space,
Inviting all unto Thy love's embrace—
All comprehending as the summer skies,
Which bend to earth with fostering charities.
But upon whom, and in what hour of grace,
Dost Thou lift up Thy beatific Face,
With whispering Voice that speaks of Paradise?
Not on the rich, the many, or the great:
On one alone; on one, in this world's view,
A wretched outcast, scorned and desolate;
Who shares the Cross with Thee and owns it due,
Claiming the King of sorrows as his own,
And 'neath the o'erwhelming cloud discerns His throne.
