Kind Saviour, who didst shed Tears for thy Lazarus dead; Who raised the widow’s son from off his bier; Who didst endure all woe That human hearts can know, Hear me, O hear! Thou that art strong to comfort, look on me-- I sit in darkness, and behold no light! Over my heart the waves of agony Have gone, and left me faint! Forbear to smite A bruised and broken reed! Sustain, sustain; Divinest Comforter, to thee I fly, Let me not fly in vain! Support me with thy love, or else I die! Father, who didst send down thy Well-Beloved, To suffer shame and death that I might live, Hear me, in this great sorrow not unmoved, And if I sin, forgive! Whate’er I had was thine! A God of mercy thou hast ever been; Assist me to resign; And if I murmur, count it not for sin! How rich I was, I dare not--dare not think; How poor I am, thou knowest, who canst see Into my soul’s unfathomed misery; Forgive me if I shrink! Forgive me if I shed these human tears! That it so hard appears To yield my will to thine, forgive, forgive! Father, it is a bitter cup to drink! [_She bows her face, and after a time of silence, rises._ My soul is strengthened! It shall bear My lot, whatever it may be; And from the depths of my despair I will look up, and trust in Thee! [_She goes slowly out._ SCENE VIII. _Many weeks afterwards--a chamber of Olaf’s house--Olaf near death, lying upon his bed--Teresa sits beside him._ _Olaf._ For years of tyranny I do beseech Thy pardon!--For thy meekness and thy truth The unrepining patience, and the beauty Of thy most holy life, my wife, I bless thee! _Ter._ Thank God! affliction has been merciful! My boy, thy death has saved thy father’s soul! _Olaf._ And the great might of virtue in thyself;-- Thy resignation, and thy pitying pardon-- For these, receive my blessing ere I die-- These, which have been the means of my salvation! _Ter._ Bless Him, my husband, who is strong to save! _Olaf._ I do, I do!--and I rejoice in death; Though, had my life been spared, I would have been Both son and husband to thee!--Weep not thou-- We shall all three ere long be united-- I, the poor outcast else, be one with you! _Ter._ Out of affliction has arisen joy, And out of black despair immortal hope! _Olaf._ [_after a silence of some time._] Give me thy hand, sweet friend;--I fain would sleep;-- And if I wake no more, I still would know Thou wilt be with me when I pass away! _Ter._ May the kind, holy Mother bless thy sleep,-- And bless thy waking, be’t of life or death;