Wash me, and dry these bitter tears,
O let my heart no further roam,
’Tis Thine by vows, and hopes, and fears.
Long since—O call Thy wanderer home;
To that dear home, safe in Thy wounded side,
Where only broken hearts their sin and shame may hide.
As for thee also, by the blood of thy covenant I have sent forth thy prisoners out of the pit wherein is no water. Zechariah ix. 11.
At length the worst is o’er,
and Thou art laid
Deep in Thy darksome bed;
All still and cold beneath yon dreary stone
Thy sacred form is gone;
Around those lips where power and mercy hung,
The dews of deaths have clung;
The dull earth o’er Thee, and Thy foes around,
Thou sleep’st a silent corse, in funeral fetters wound.
Sleep’st Thou indeed? or is
Thy spirit fled,
At large among the dead?
Whether in Eden bowers Thy welcome voice
Wake Abraham to rejoice,
Or in some drearier scene Thine eye controls
The thronging band of souls;
That, as Thy blood won earth, Thine agony
Might set the shadowy realm from sin and sorrow free.
Where’er Thou roam’st,
one happy soul, we know,
Seen at Thy side in woe,
Waits on Thy triumphs—even as all the blest
With him and Thee shall rest.
Each on his cross; by Thee we hang a while,
Watching Thy patient smile,
Till we have learned to say, “’Tis justly done,
Only in glory, Lord, Thy sinful servant own.”
Soon wilt Thou take us to Thy tranquil
To rest one little hour,
Till Thine elect are numbered, and the grave
Call Thee to come and save:
Then on Thy bosom borne shall we descend
Again with earth to blend,
Earth all refined with bright supernal fires,
Tinctured with holy blood, and winged with pure desires.
Meanwhile with every son and saint
Along the glorious line,
Sitting by turns beneath Thy sacred feet
We’ll hold communion sweet,
Know them by look and voice, and thank them all
For helping us in thrall,
For words of hope, and bright examples given
To show through moonless skies that there is light in Heaven.
O come that day, when in this restless
Earth shall resign her part,
When in the grave with Thee my limbs shall rest,
My soul with Thee be blest!
But stay, presumptuous—Christ with Thee abides
In the rock’s dreary sides:
He from this stone will wring Celestial dew
If but this prisoner’s heart he faithful found and true.