HOPE.
For we have not a high priest who cannot be touched
with the feeling of our infirmities: but was in all
points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.
Heb. iv. 15.
When gathering clouds around I view,
And days are dark, and friends are few,
On him I lean, who, not in vain,
Experienc'd every human pain,
He sees my wants, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.
If aught should tempt my soul to stray,
From heavenly virtue's narrow way,
To fly the good I would pursue,
Or do the sin I would not do,
Still he who felt temptation's power,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
If wounded love my bosom swell,
Deceiv'd by those I priz'd too well,
He shall his pitying aid bestow,
Who felt on earth severer wo;
At once betrayed, denied, or fled,
By all that shar'd his daily bread.
When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And, sore dismay'd my spirit dies,
Yet he who once vouchsaf'd to bear,
The sickening anguish of despair,
Shall sweetly sooth; shall gently dry,
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.
When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers all that was a friend,
And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
Divides me—for a little while—
Thou, Saviour see'st the tears I shed,
For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.
And O, when I have safely past,
Through every conflict—but the last,
Still, still unchanging, watch beside,
My painful bed—for thou hast died;
Then point to realms of cloudless day,
And wipe the latest tear away.
A. B. C.