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THE BROKEN SLUMBER.
THE BROKEN SLUMBER.
"Woman! why weepest thou? whom seekest thou?"—John xx. 15.
"I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my Beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me."—Sol. Song v. 2.
As the mourning bride, awaking
From her slumber, wandered forth;
Weeping for her Lord departed,
Dwelling on His matchless worth,
From her slumber, wandered forth;
Weeping for her Lord departed,
Dwelling on His matchless worth,
Till Jerusalem's careless daughters
Listened to her wail of woe,
Crying, "Who is thy Beloved,
That thou weep'st His absence so?"
Listened to her wail of woe,
Crying, "Who is thy Beloved,
That thou weep'st His absence so?"
Thus I comfort me, recounting,
Lord, Thy wondrous works of old,
When Thy voice, that woke the tempest,
Ruled the waves that o'er me rolled.
Lord, Thy wondrous works of old,
When Thy voice, that woke the tempest,
Ruled the waves that o'er me rolled.
I Thy mercies will remember,
As my soul desponding lies,
And their memory shall upbear me,
O'er the earth-mists, to the skies.
As my soul desponding lies,
And their memory shall upbear me,
O'er the earth-mists, to the skies.
