Classic Poem

Wildly falls the night around me,
Chains I cannot break have bound me,
Spirits unrebuked, undriven
From before me, darken heaven;
Creeds bewilder, and the saying
Unfelt prayers, makes need of praying.

In this bitter anguish lying,
Only thou wilt hear my crying —
Thou, whose hands wash white the erring
As the wool is at the shearing;
Not with dulcimer or psalter,
But with tears, I seek thy altar.

Feet that trod the mount so weary,
Eyes that pitying looked on Mary,
Hands that brought the Father's blessing,
Heads of little children pressing,
Voice that said, " Behold thy brother, "
Lo, I seek ye and none other.

Look, oh gentlest eyes of pity
Out of Zion, the glorious city;
Speak, oh voice of mercy, sweetly;
Hide me, hands of love, completely;
Sick, in prison, lying lonely,
Ye can lift me up, ye only.

In my hot brow soothe the aching,
In my sad heart stay the breaking,
On my lips the murmur trembling,
Change to praises undissembling;
Make me wise as the evangels,
Clothe me with the wings of angels.

Power that made the few loaves many,
Power that blessed the wine at Cana,
Power that said to Lazarus, " Waken! "
Leave, oh leave me not forsaken!
Sick and hungry, and in prison,
Save me Crucified and Risen!