“Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm.”
—Song of Sol. 8:6.
LORD, dearest Lord! to thee I call,
Thy sympathy I freely claim;
Thou know'st my fears, my griefs, and all,
For thou thyself hast felt the same.
As man, a man of sorrows, thou
Hast suffer'd every human woe,
And thus, enthroned in glory now,
Canst pity all thy saints below.
Earth—Heaven—O Christ! in thee combine,
Thee Virgin-born-Jehovah's Son:
And thus I dare to call thee mine,
My brother and my God in one.
Sweet thought, my Savior! but for this
I could not tell my grief to thee:
Nor hope that thou, 'mid all thy bliss—
Thy glory, Lord! couldst feel for me.
But oh! my name is like a seal,
A jewel on thy tender heart:
That heart that feels for all I feel,
In every sorrow bears a part.
Come, then, with some reviving word
Of tender love, my soul relieve:
And on thy bosom, gracious Lord,
Oh, let me freely, sweetly grieve!
There, blessed Savior! let me think
Of all thy rich, redeeming love:
And long with all my soul to drink
The fullness of that bliss above.
Redeem'd to God, redeem'd by thee,
I sigh, I languish there to rest,
Supremely happy, safe, and free,
Forever on thy tender breast.
To see thee, love thee, feel thee near,
Nor dread as now thy transient stay:
To dwell beyond the reach of fear,
Lest joy should wane or pass away.
Oh, what divine repose were this!
Can mortal heart, O Lord, desire
More heavenly peace? —what more of bliss
Can angel or can saint require?