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One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads

Original, and suitable for music [by Jean Ingelow]

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[It is the Lord. He stands with thorny crown]
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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27

[It is the Lord. He stands with thorny crown]

“Come unto Me.”

It is the Lord. He stands with thorny crown
That I did help to press upon His brow.
Is mine a lost soul? Nay; for He looks down
In love upon me sunk into the slough
Of my despond, and calls—O, can it be?—
“Come unto Me!”
“This unkind world, which promised all and gave
Nothing, thou long hast served it, and for nought;
But now thou knowest its glory cannot save,
Nor its grace comfort. One there is takes thought
Upon thy grief. Myself have pitied thee,—
Come unto Me!
“O thou deceived, and wounded, and cast by,
Now in thy poverty, distress, despair,
Emptied of good, look on thy hope—come nigh;
So look away thy misery and thy care,
Thou yet shall have enough and all good see—
Come unto Me!
“Come with thy yearning void, thy deep unrest,
And all thy sins and thy deplorèd shame;
For I can wash thee clean and clear thy breast,
That knoweth not yet its Great Want's greater name,
My name, even Mine. Behold, I wait for thee!—
Come unto me!”