Classic Poem

TILL the day dawn,
And the Day-star arise—
Father, O keep thy son,
Thy feeble, faithless one!
O guide him through the waste,
Till the long gloom be past.
It is a night of fear;
The path is rough and drear;
Clouds frown, blasts rush along,
The tempests gather strong;
Strange perils compass me,
Of flood, fire, rock, and sea;
Yet I, in loneliness,
Would fain still onward press.
O felt and known, but yet unseen, be nigh;
O loved and longed-for, hear each hidden sigh;
Leave me not, struggling thus, to sink and die.

Till the day dawn,
And the Day-star arise—
O Saviour, let thy love,
Down dropping from above,
This withered soul renew
With thy flower-freshening dew!
O never-changing Friend,
My failing steps attend;
Hold thou me up, and so
I shall pass safely through.
Still keep me at thy side,
Thou who for me hast died;
O light me on my way,
My joy, my strength, my stay.
O clasp me closer to thy pierced side,
Thou who for me the death of deaths hast died;
Let not this staggering faith be too too sorely tried.

Till the day dawn,
And the Day-star arise—
Spirit of gentle love,
Thou tempest-calming dove,
Come, and within me dwell,
Come, and all gloom dispel.
Most blessed Comforter,
My weary footsteps cheer.
O light and lamp divine,
Upon my midnight shine,
Better than star or moon,
Brighter than day's bright noon,
O let thy joyous ray
Turn all my night to day.
When thou art absent, even my joy is sad,
When thou art with me, even my grief is glad;
Let not thy silence now sorrow to sorrow add.

Till the day dawn,
And the Day-star arise—
Church of the living God,
Pursue thy upward road;
Look not behind nor stray
From the well-trodden way.
Be not ashamed to bear
Thy cross on earth, nor fear
Reproach and poverty,
For him who died for thee.
With girded loins press on.
Till the reward is won.
Think of thy absent Lord,
Hold fast thy plighted word.
Doff not thy weeds of widowhood, nor fear
To let the world, thro' which thou passest, hear
The widow's cry, and see the widow's faithful tear.