Miserere

A poem by Kate Seymour Maclean

Be pitiful, oh God! the night is long,
My soul is faint with watching for the light,
And still the gloom and doubt of seven-fold night
Hangs heavy on my spirit: Thou art strong.--
Pity me, oh my God!

I stretch my hands through darkness up to Thee,--
The stars are shrouded, and the night is dumb;
There is no earthly help,--to Thee I come
In all my helplessness and misery,--
Pity me, oh my God!

Be pitiful, oh God!--for I am weak,
And all my paths are rough, and hedged about,--
Hold Thou my hand dear Lord, and lead me out,
And bring me to the city which I seek,--
Pity me, oh my God!

By the temptation which Thou didst endure,
And by Thy fasting and Thy midnight prayer,
Jesu! let me not utterly despair;
Oh! hide me in the Rock from ill secure,--
Pity me, oh my God!

Mine eyes run down with tears that do not cease;
Oh! when beyond the river dark and cold,
Shall I the white walls of my home behold,--
The shining palaces--the streets of gold,--
And enter through the gates the City of Peace,--
Pity me, oh my God!

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