To Thee, in heaven do I lift my eyes;
Look, how I look, how I wait on Thy hand;
Wait as a watchman, for the dawn to rise,
For Thy mercy as light to flood the land.
Enough! --the contempt of the proud who look down,
Who sneer and scowl over their upturned nose,
Who turn away, ignore, "tisk-tisk" and frown
At the brethren they trample, use, then dispose.
The Richest of All looked down, stepped into,
Looked up, cried 'Why hast Thou forsaken me?'
Looked down, plead, 'They know not what they do!'
Cried, 'Enough! It is finished; my spirit, receive.'
Three dawns hence my called name lifts up my head
To behold, Mercy reaching, risen from the dead.
© Randall Edwards 2017
artwork: detail from an illustration of The Pilgrim’s Progress or Christian’s journey form the City of Destruction in this evil World to the Celestial City; Published July 1, 1813 by J. Pitts No 14 Great St Andrews Street Seven Dials.