"WHO yonder on the desert heath, Complains in feeble tone?" -- "A pilgrim in the vale of death, Faint, bleeding, and alone!" "How cam'st thou to this dismal strand Of danger, grief, and shame?" -- "From blessed Sion's holy land, By Folly led, I came!" "What ruffian hand hath stript thee bare? Whose fury laid thee low?" -- "Sin for my footsteps twined her snare, And Death has dealt the blow!" "Can art no medicine for thy wound, Nor nature strength supply?" -- "They saw me bleeding on the ground, And pass'd in silence by!" "But, sufferer! is no comfort near, Thy terrors to remove?" -- "There is to whom my soul was dear, But I have scorn'd His love." "What if His hand were nigh to save From endless death thy days?" -- "The soul He ransom'd from the grave Should live but to His praise!" "Rise then, oh rise! His health embrace, With heavenly strength renew'd; -- And, such as is thy Saviour's grace, Such be thy gratitude!" |