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  Of Him That Was Ready To Perish  

 

Lord, I am waiting, weeping, watching for Thee:
    My youth and hope lie by me buried and dead,
    My wandering love hath not where to lay its head
        Except Thou say "Come to Me."

My noon is ended, abolished from life and light,
    My noon is ended, ended and done away,
    My sun went down in the hours that still were day,
        And my lingering day is night.

How long, O Lord, how long in my desperate pain
    Shall I weep and watch, shall I weep and long for Thee?
    Is Thy grace ended, Thy love cut off from me?
        How long shall I long in vain?

O God Who before the beginning hast seen the end,
    Who hast made me flesh and blood, not frost and not fire,
    Who hast filled me full of needs and love and desire
        And a heart that craves a friend,

Who hast said "Come to Me and I will give thee rest,"
    Who hast said "Take on thee My yoke and learn of Me,"
    Who calledst a little child to come to Thee
        And pillowedst John on Thy breast;

Who spak'st to women that followed Thee sorrowing,
    Bidding them weep for themselves and weep for their own;
    Who didst welcome the outlaw adoring Thee all alone,
        And plight Thy word as a King,--

By Thy love of these and of all that ever shall be,
    By Thy love of these and of all the born and unborn,
    Turn Thy gracious eyes on me and think no scorn
        Of me, not even of me.

Beside Thy Cross I hang on my cross in shame,
    My wounds, weakness, extremity cry to Thee:
    Bid me also to Paradise, also me
        For the glory of Thy Name.

       - Frances Ridley Havergal


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