3.
“He will deliver his soul from going into the pit, and his
life shall see the light.”
Oh, might I 'neath that shadow find repose
In the assurèd hope of endless morn,
As all things I behold are westward borne
Unto their setting and the daylight's close!
But while I see Thy Face in dying throes,
A thousand voices call to me to mourn,
And cry aloud within my breast forlorn,
Ah, no! ah, no! thou canst not be as those,
Or as that penitent who, in his pangs,
Upon the bed of death in sorrow hangs!
Oh, faith beyond all faithfulness! when all
Forsook and fled, when e'en Apostles fall,
As death's dark valley they together trod,
He in the Man of Sorrows knows his God.
