Our Friend by Robert Hare

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California, U.S.A. · Sep 16, 1930

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 57, No. 36.

Our Friend

By Robert Hare

ROBERT HARE

And art thou lonely, child of clay? Our Christ was lonely too; He stood in Pilate's judgment hall With not a friend in view. Alone! and yet the Lord and King; Alone! yet all divine,— O lonely heart, why fearful then? He is a Friend of thine.

And art thou weary? See His steps Falter with those unblest, He toiled for bread and yet He calls The weary to His rest. Nor toil nor fitful fears can vex The heart that trusts His will, His love can charm and overpass All that would work thee ill.

And art thou poor? His poverty Was wider, deeper far; He had not where to lay His head ‘Neath moon or glittering star. The lonely night winds fanned His brow, While angels heard Him pray— The dewy sod His altar shrine After the close of day.

And now He lives a constant Friend For every lonely heart, With every weary toil-worn soul, His Spirit bears a part, Fitted to meet each need of life, The great High Priest divine, His love can measure every grief That meets your life and mine.