While still, suspended by a single hair,
The sharp bright sword hangs quivering in the air,
Bow down thy heart to Him who will not break
The bruisèd reed; e’en yet, awake, awake!
Patient, because Eternal,[138] He may hear
Thy prayer of agony with pitying ear,
And send his chastening Spirit from above,
O’er the deep chaos of thy soul to move.
But seek thou mercy through his name alone,
To whose unequall’d sorrows none was shown;