One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads Original, and suitable for music [by Jean Ingelow] |
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PRAYER AGAINST THE GREAT SEPARATION. |
 | One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads |  |
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PRAYER AGAINST THE GREAT SEPARATION.
“O that Ishmael might live before Thee.”
When I from all I love apart
Am offering up my chasten'd heart;
To Thee, O Lord, I make my moan,
Save not, O save not me alone.
Am offering up my chasten'd heart;
To Thee, O Lord, I make my moan,
Save not, O save not me alone.
Lord God, in misery for my whole,
How am I saved, if I am sole,
My very self, my children dear,
Without a part in Thy sweet fear.
How am I saved, if I am sole,
My very self, my children dear,
Without a part in Thy sweet fear.
Yea, my most loved;—yet Thou art love—
Hear me, I come Thy heart to prove,
With long desire and waiting faint,
Opening my grief and my complaint.
Hear me, I come Thy heart to prove,
With long desire and waiting faint,
Opening my grief and my complaint.
Where art Thou, Lord? I cannot rest
Till mine with me are wholly blest;
My need is now, my prayer is now—
Where art Thou, Lord, why tarriest Thou?
Till mine with me are wholly blest;
My need is now, my prayer is now—
Where art Thou, Lord, why tarriest Thou?
I ask but for a promised good;
Is't for my sins I am withstood?
Search me, O God; behold, and see
If ought of evil cleave to me.
Is't for my sins I am withstood?
Search me, O God; behold, and see
If ought of evil cleave to me.
'Tis even so—it must be so,
Yet will I ne'er my hope forego;
Nay, but I'll rise to regions higher,
Fulfil, O Christ, Thine own desire—
Yet will I ne'er my hope forego;
Nay, but I'll rise to regions higher,
Fulfil, O Christ, Thine own desire—
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And His that sent Thee. Let Him rest
Satiate with peace upon Thy breast;
Let the souls enter, many, and live—
Great Father;—give to Him—O give.
Satiate with peace upon Thy breast;
Let the souls enter, many, and live—
Great Father;—give to Him—O give.
Yes, when I sink Thou makest me 'ware
They are not left to my poor prayer;
I move Thee to Thine own intent
To bring these souls from banishment.
They are not left to my poor prayer;
I move Thee to Thine own intent
To bring these souls from banishment.
O Lord, My God, let it be soon,
My sun declineth from its noon;
But what! I know they shall be blest,
I'll dare with Thee to leave the rest.
My sun declineth from its noon;
But what! I know they shall be blest,
I'll dare with Thee to leave the rest.
Although the valley clods be spread
First over mine uncrownèd head,
I know salvation they shall see,
I trust my best-beloved with Thee.
First over mine uncrownèd head,
I know salvation they shall see,
I trust my best-beloved with Thee.
| One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads | |