Page:Poems Rossetti.djvu/475

To Thee I turn mine eyes, my heart forlorn;
 Put forth Thy scarred right Hand, kind Lord, take hold
 Of me Thine all-forsaken dove who mourn:
For Thou hast loved me since the days of old,
 And I love Thee Whom loving I will love
 Through life's short fever-fits of heat and cold;
Thy Name will I extol and sing thereof,
 Will flee for refuge to Thy Blessed Name.
 Lord, look upon me from Thy bliss above:
Look down on me, who shrink from all the shame
 And pangs and desolation of my death,
 Wrenched piecemeal or devoured or set on flame,
While all the world around me holds its breath
 With eyes glued on me for a gazing-stock,
 Pitiless eyes, while no man pitieth.
The floods are risen, I stagger in their shock,
 My heart reels and is faint, I fail, I faint:
 My God, set Thou me up upon the rock,
Thou Who didst long ago Thyself acquaint
 With death, our death; Thou Who didst long ago
 Pour forth Thy soul for sinner and for saint.
Bear me in mind, whom no one else will know;
 Thou Whom Thy friends forsook, take Thou my part,
 Of all forsaken in mine overthrow;
Carry me in Thy bosom, in Thy heart,
 Carry me out of darkness into light,
 To-morrow make me see Thee as Thou art.
Lover and friend Thou hidest from my sight:—