O SAVIOUR, WHOSE MERCY.
By Sir Robert Grant
O Saviour! whose mercy, severe in its kindness,
Hath chastened my wanderings and guided my way.
Adored be the power that illumined my blindness,
And weaned me from phantoms that smiled to betray. Enchanted with all that was dazzling and fair,
I followed the rainbow, I caught at the toy;
And still in displeasure thy goodness was there,
Disappointing the hope and defeating the joy. The blossom blushed bright, but a worm was below;
The moonlight shone fair, there was blight in the beam;
Sweet whispered the breeze, but it whispered of woe;
And bitterness flowed in the soft-flowing stream. So cured of my folly, yet cured but in part,
I turned to the refuge thy pity displayed;
And still, did this eager and credulous heart,
Weave visions of promise that bloomed but to fade. I thought that the course of the pilgrim to Heaven
Would be bright as the summer and glad as the morn;
Thou showedst me the path: it was dark and uneven,
All rugged with rock and all tangled with thorn. I dreamed of celestial rewards and renown,
I grasped at the triumph that blesses the brave;
I asked for the palm-branch, the robe, and the crown,
I asked, and thou showedst me a cross and a grave! Subdued and instructed, at length to thy will
My hopes and my wishes I freely resign;
O, give me a heart that can wait and be still,
Nor know of a wish or a pleasure but thine. There are mansions exempted from sin and from woe.
But they stand in a region by mortals untrod;
There are rivers of joy, but they roll not below;
There is rest, but 'tis found in the bosom of God.