DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SAVIOR AND THE MOURNER.
MOURNER.
O, man of sorrows! who art thou,
With sadness painted on thy brow?
Why is thy lovely visage marr’d,
And why thy glorious forehead scarr’d?
SAVIOR.
O, Zion’s daughter! I am He
Who dwelt with God eternally;
But pity brought me here to die;
You see me wounded—this is why.
MOURNER.
Dear dying Savior! can it be,
That thou wert bruised for guilty me?
Art thou acquainted with my grief,
And canst thou give me sweet relief?
SAVIOR.
Afflicted one! I pierc’d thy heart;
From my own quiver sped the dart
Which brought thee, weeping, back to me;
The wounded to the Healer flee!
MOURNER.
O, kind Reprover! may I dare
To tell thee every anxious fear?
Then, Savior! hear my mournful cry,
I fear that all I love may die.
SAVIOR.
Unkind! ungrateful! where am I?
Can God, thy Savior, ever die?
Though friend and lover leave thee, yet
I still am near, dost thou forget?
MOURNER.
Now woe is me—I hang my head,
And sad repenting tears I shed;
Dear Savior! canst thou me forgive,
And bid my sorrowing spirit live?
SAVIOR.
O, stricken mourner! cease thy fear,
More tender than a mother’s care
Are all my watchings over thee;
Then, lone one! softly walk with me.
September 6, 1840.