Home  »  The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century  »  Sir Robert Grant (1779–1838)

Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907.

By Sacred Poems. III. “When gathering clouds around I view”

Sir Robert Grant (1779–1838)

  • “For we have not an High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.”
  • Heb. iv. 15.

  • WHEN gathering clouds around I view

    And days are dark, and friends are few

    On Him I lean, Who, not in vain,

    Experienc’d every human pain;

    He sees my wants, allays my fears,

    And counts and treasures up my tears.

    If aught should tempt my soul to stray

    From heavenly wisdom’s narrow way,

    To fly the good I would pursue,

    Or do the sin I would not do,—

    Still He, Who felt temptation’s power,

    Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.

    If wounded love my bosom swell,

    Deceiv’d by those I prized too well,—

    He shall His pitying aid bestow,

    Who felt on earth severer woe,

    At once betrayed, denied, or fled,

    By those who shared His daily bread.

    If vexing thoughts within me rise,

    And, sore dismay’d my spirit dies,

    Still He Who once vouchsafed to bear

    The sickening anguish of despair,

    Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry,

    The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.

    When sorrowing o’er some stone I bend,

    Which covers what was once a friend,

    And from his voice, his hand, his smile,

    Divides me—for a little while;

    Thou, Saviour, mark’st the tears I shed,

    For Thou didst weep o’er Lazarus dead.

    And O, when I have safely past

    Through every conflict—but the last,

    Still, still unchanging, watch beside

    My painful bed—for Thou hast died;

    Then point to realms of cloudless day,

    And wipe the latest tear away.