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The Soul's Cry

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 13, 1911

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 88, No. 28.

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The Soul's Cry

By Thomas R. Robinson

To thee, O Christ, I lift mine eyes, though hope seems all departed; My strength is spent ere noontide's glow my feeble efforts thwarted; Earth has no stronghold against sin, no human hand can aid me; Wilt thou regard me, who dost know how vile my sins have made me?
O wo! to think upon thy cross, the anguish of thy dying, And know the sin that ruled my heart cried for thy crucifying! O wonder passing all belief, to hear thy scorned love saying: “Forgive them, Father!” — Maker slain, for man, his slayer, praying!
O King most kingly, God most wise, dear Friend, of all most loving, Keep from my lips defiling words, turn back my feet from roving, And fill my soul with love for thee. Earth shall in vain allure me, If thou dost help me so to love, and of thy love assure me.
— Thomas R. Robinson.