A SUPPLIANT
Lo, these many years I lay,
As a suppliant to my God,
Bore the Cross upon my breast,
Bowed my head beneath the rod.
I have kept my temple fair,
I have watched it day and night,
Lo, my cruse of oil is full,
And my lamp of faith is bright!
I have knelt these many years,
Lord, and I am kneeling still;
On my spirit send Thy grace,
On my body work Thy will.
For at last I shall arise,
I shall stand before Thy throne,
Saying: “Lord, the night is past,
And I come to claim my own!”
Saying: “I have served Thee well,
Great my fathers’ God and mine,
I have kept Thy temple white,
And the lamp of faith is Thine.
“I have knelt my whole years long,
Now I must arise and stand;
There is one among the lost
Who shall clasp me by the hand.
“All the prayers that I have prayed
Were as naught could this not be,
That wherever he has lain
He might stretch his hand to me.
“All the years that I have bowed,
Kneeling there, I knelt in vain,
Could I not in heaven or hell
Look and see his face again.
“I shall hold his hand in mine
When I make my prayer to Thee.
‘Lord, as one and not as twain,
Deal with him and deal with me.’”