—“I am cast out—I find no place,
No hearing at the throne of grace.
‘Come, Lord—oh, come!’ I cry alway,
I pour my heart out night and day,
Yet never until now have won
The answer,—‘Here am I, my son.’”
—“Oh, dull of heart! enclosed doth lie,
In each ‘Come, Lord,’ an ‘Here am I.’
Thy love, thy longing, are not thine—
Reflections of a love divine: