Thou Who hast borne all burdens, bear our load, Bear Thou our load whatever load it be; Our guilt, our shame, our helpless misery, Bear Thou Who only canst, O God my God. Seek us and find us, for we cannot Thee Or seek or find or hold or cleave unto: We cannot do or undo; Lord, undo Our self-undoing, for Thine is the key Of all we are not though we might have been. Dear Lord, if ever mercy moved Thy mind, If so be love of us can move Thee yet, If still the nail-prints in Thy Hands are seen, Remember us,--yea, how shouldst Thou forget? Remember us for good, and seek, and find. 3. Each soul I might have succored, may have slain, All souls shall face me at the last Appeal, That great last moment poised for woe or weal, That final moment for man's bliss or bane. Vanity of vanities, yea all is vain Which then will not avail or help or heal: Disfeatured faces, worn-out knees that kneel, Will more avail than strength or beauty then. Lord, by Thy Passion,--when Thy Face was marred In sight of earth and hell tumultuous, And Thy heart failed in Thee like melting wax, And Thy Blood dropped more precious than the nard,-- Lord, for Thy sake, not ours, supply our lacks, For Thine own sake, not ours, Christ, pity us. THE THREAD OF LIFE. 1. The irresponsive silence of the land, The irresponsive sounding of the sea, Speak both one message of one sense to me:-- Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band Of inner solitude; we bind not thee; But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free? What heart shall touch thy heart? what hand thy hand?-- And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek, And sometimes I remember days of old When fellowship seemed not so far to seek And all the world and I seemed much less cold, And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold, And hope felt strong and life itself not weak. 2. Thus am I mine own prison. Everything Around me free and sunny and at ease: Or if in shadow, in a shade of trees Which the sun kisses, where the gay birds sing And where all winds make various murmuring; Where bees are found, with honey for the bees; Where sounds are music, and where silences Are music of an unlike fashioning. Then gaze I at the merrymaking crew, And smile a moment and a moment sigh Thinking: Why can I not rejoice with you? But soon I put the foolish fancy by: I am not what I have nor what I do; But what I was I am, I am even I. 3.