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| 1 O Lord, the wilderness to me A very paradise shall be, Since Thou for forty days wast there, In fasting, solitude and prayer. 2 Unworthy though these feet to rest On ground Thy footsteps once have blest, The way of sorrows shall be mine, Made sweet because it first was Thine. 3 Lord, let me find some lowly place Where I may seek Thy pitying face, And plead with Thee by Olivet, By agony, and bloody sweat. 4 Some quiet aisle or dim recess Shall make for me a wilderness; And surely angels shall be there To wait on penitence and prayer. 5 Nor is this all: for I would know The depth of shame, the crown of woe Stand by the stricken Mother’s side, While Thou art mocked and crucified. 6 And then in hours of saddest gloom I still will watch around Thy tomb, Till with the day new joy be born, And Thou shalt rise on Easter morn. 7 O blessèd thought, that faith can see In every altar—Calvary, Find there the loving arms outspread, And fall before the fallen Head. 8 Come King of kings, come Light of light: The Bride awaits the day all bright, When she shall lift, her mourning o’er, The shout of Paschal joy once more. | The Cyber Hymnal #10801 |
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