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So shalt thou rise from depths of woe,
With humbled heart but soaring eye,
To run a glorious course below,
And win a Martyr's crown on high.
With humbled heart but soaring eye,
To run a glorious course below,
And win a Martyr's crown on high.
Such was thy lot! And oh! may He
Whose one soft glance could win thee home,
Now look, as then He looked on thee,
And bid each wandering spirit come.
Whose one soft glance could win thee home,
Now look, as then He looked on thee,
And bid each wandering spirit come.
Yes, may He touch each hardened heart,
And lead them on with "cords of love:"
To fill like thee their earthly lot,
And share Thy glorious lot above!
And lead them on with "cords of love:"
To fill like thee their earthly lot,
And share Thy glorious lot above!
E.
May 20, 1833.
