O Thou, at whose rebuke, the grave Back to warm life the sleeper gave, Who, waking, saw with joy, above, A brother’s face of tenderest love;— | Thou, unto whom the blind and lame, The sorrowing, and the sin-sick came; The burden of thy holy faith Was love and life, not hate and death. | O, once again thy healing lay On the blind eyes which know thee not, And let the light of thy pure day Shine in upon the darkened thought! | O, touch the hearts of men, and show The power which in forbearance lies; And let them feel that Mercy now Is better than old Sacrifice! | |