Litany

Sir Robert Grant (1779–1838)

SAVIOUR, when in dust to Thee

Low we bend the adoring knee;

When, repentant, to the skies

Scarce we lift our weeping eyes,—

O, by all Thy pains and woe

Suffered once for man below,

Bending from Thy throne on high,

Hear our solemn litany!

By Thy helpless infant years;

By Thy life of want and tears;

By Thy days of sore distress

In the savage wilderness;

By the dread mysterious hour

Of the insulting tempter’s power,—

Turn, O, turn a favoring eye,

Hear our solemn litany!

By the sacred griefs that wept

O’er the grave where Lazarus slept;

By the boding tears that flowed

Over Salem’s loved abode;

By the anguished sigh that told

Treachery lurked within Thy fold,—

From Thy seat above the sky

Hear our solemn litany!

By Thine hour of dire despair;

By Thine agony of prayer;

By the cross, the nail, the thorn,

Piercing spear, and torturing scorn;

By the gloom that veiled the skies

O’er the dreadful sacrifice,—

Listen to our humble cry,

Hear our solemn litany!

By Thy deep expiring groan;

By the sad sepulchral stone;

By the vault whose dark abode

Held in vain the rising God;

O, from earth to heaven restored,

Mighty, reascended Lord,—

Listen, listen to the cry

Of our solemn litany!