THOU who dost dwell in depths of timeless being,
Watching the years as moments passing by,
Seeing the things that lie beyond our seeing,
Constant, unchanged, as aeons dawn and die;
Thou who canst count the stars upon their courses,
Holding them all in the hollow of Thy hand,
Lord of the world with its myriad of forces
Seeing the hills as single grains of sand;
Art Thou so great that this our bitter crying
Sounds in Thine ears like sorrow of a child?
Hast Thou looked down on centuries of sighing,
And, like a heartless mother, only smiled?
Since in Thy sight to-day is as to-morrow,
And while we strive Thy victory is won,
Hast Thou no tears to shed upon our sorrow?
Art Thou a staring splendour like the sun?
Dost Thou not heed the helpless sparrow's falling?
Canst Thou not see the tears that women weep?
Canst Thou not hear Thy little children calling?
Dost Thou not watch above them as they sleep?
Then, O my God, Thou art too great to love me,
Since Thou dost reign beyond the reach of tears.
Calm and serene as the cruel stars above me,
High and remote from human hopes and fears.
Only in Him can I find home to hide me,
Who on the Cross was slain to rise again;
Only with Him, my Comrade God, beside me,
Can I go forth to war with sin and pain.