  Father, I’ve trespassed in Thy sight, But I’m weak and poor and sad; My days are long and dreary, And my soul is never glad. My nights are dark and lonely, And my dreams are full of pain; I’ve wandered, oh, so long, And toiled so long in vain. I’d feel Thy forgiving hand Rest kind on my stricken head Ere the last sad sigh is breathed, And I sleep with the quiet dead In a dreamless, perfect rest; No bitter, cankering care To trouble my deep repose, Or fill me with dark despair. Forgive, for my burden is heavy, And grievous, and hard to bear, And I have no home to-night; And around me everywhere And the way is rough and cold; The summer of life is faded, And I am growing old. Forgive, for my tears are falling; I kneel at Thy sacred feet; Lead from “the deep, dark valley,” Where but ruin reigns complete. Forgive, for all around me Is the winter’s fret and moan, And I long for summers fairer, Near Thy great white throne. |
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