Henry Charles Beeching, ed. (1859–1919). Lyra Sacra: A Book of Religious Verse. 1903.

By Thomas Toke Lynch (1818–1871)


I GIVE myself to prayer;
  Lord, give Thyself to me,
And let the time of my request
  Thy time of answer be.
My thoughts are like the reeds,        5
  And tremble as they grow,
In the sad current of a life
  That darkly runs and slow.
No song is in the air,
  But one pervading fear;        10
Death’s shadow dims my light, and Death
  Himself is lurking near.
I am as if asleep,
  Yet conscious that I dream;
Like one who vainly strives to wake        15
  And free himself, I seem.
The loud distressful cry
  With which I call on Thee,
Shall wake me, Lord, to find that Thou
  Canst give me liberty.        20
Oh, break this darksome spell,
  This murky sadness strange,
Let me the terrors of the night
  For cheerful day exchange.
Freshen the air with wind,        25
  Comfort my heart with song;
Let thoughts be lilies pure, and life
  A river bright and strong.
Save me from subtle Death,
  Who, serpent-like, by fear        30
Palsies me for escape, yet draws
  His trembling victim near.
I give myself to prayer;
  Lord, give Thyself to me;
And in the time of my distress,        35
  Oh, haste and succour me.