the midnight vigil.
143
And Bethlehem's dews made coolness round thy rest!
O, by that love still faithful when the child
Put on the name and presence of the God,
And went forth bearing on his mighty heart
The crime, and death, and sorrow of a world!
Still true 'mid want, and wrong, and jeering scorn,
And hate's mad tempest beating on thy life,
To that dread hour when heaven was veiled in gloom,
And nature trembled and cried out in fear!
O, by thy human love divinely sweet,
Which yearned for her caress to comfort Thee
In the long exile from thy heavenly home,—
Which in the last hour lived upon thy lips
In words of tenderness, and from thine eyes
Struggled through mists of death in mute farewell!
O, by thy love, thy sorrow, and thy pain,
By all the tears Thou 'st shed for mortal woe,
Let the imploring passion of my soul
Come up before Thee at this midnight hour!
Break not "the bruised reed," Most Merciful!
Stay Thou the bleeding of the wounded heart!
Give back its dearest treasure even now!
Draw near, O Lord of Life, and gently take
The hand of our belovèd in thine own,
And say to her, "Arise!"
O, by that love still faithful when the child
Put on the name and presence of the God,
And went forth bearing on his mighty heart
The crime, and death, and sorrow of a world!
Still true 'mid want, and wrong, and jeering scorn,
And hate's mad tempest beating on thy life,
To that dread hour when heaven was veiled in gloom,
And nature trembled and cried out in fear!
O, by thy human love divinely sweet,
Which yearned for her caress to comfort Thee
In the long exile from thy heavenly home,—
Which in the last hour lived upon thy lips
In words of tenderness, and from thine eyes
Struggled through mists of death in mute farewell!
O, by thy love, thy sorrow, and thy pain,
By all the tears Thou 'st shed for mortal woe,
Let the imploring passion of my soul
Come up before Thee at this midnight hour!
Break not "the bruised reed," Most Merciful!
Stay Thou the bleeding of the wounded heart!
Give back its dearest treasure even now!
Draw near, O Lord of Life, and gently take
The hand of our belovèd in thine own,
And say to her, "Arise!"
