2.
“O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?”
Lord, are we in that tender heart so near
And dear to Thee? Thou knowest long before
Our very thoughts; our words are counted o'er
Before they rise, and on our tongues made clear
Unto ourselves and others they appear.
For our affections are the very store
That Thou would'st treasure up; and evermore
Close to our countenance Thine Eye and Ear
Is listening for our words, to us unknown.
Oh, let me ne'er amid the wicked stand,
Forgetting vows I made with Thee alone;
But if surrounded by the impious band,
Fill'd with the thoughts of Thy Gethsemane,
Let me forget myself—remember Thee!
