The Inward Cross, 14

O This agony of grief,
When shall it all be past?
Surely God will send relief,
And rescue me at last:
Comforter of all that mourn,
Jesus shall my peace restore,
Root out of my flesh the thorn,
And bid me weep no more.

Thrice, three thousand, times have I
For speedy rescue pray'd,
Can the God of love deny
His kindly promised aid?
Shall I never, never know
Full release from sin and pain,
First of all the sons of woe
That ask'd His help in vain.

No, Thou gracious God and true,
Thy promise cannot fail,
Thou at last shall bring me through
The toils of sin and hell:
This from Thee even now I have—
If Thou art not always nigh,
If Thou canst not, wilt not save,
Let me for ever die.
Too bold. J. W.