Charlotte Bronte - He Saw My Heart’s Woe

Lyrics

He saw my heart's woe, discovered my soul's anguish How in fever, in thirst, in atrophy it pined; Knew he could heal, yet looked and let it languish,— To its moans spirit-deaf, to its pangs spirit-blind But once a year he heard a whisper low and dreary Appealing for aid, entreating some reply; Only when sick, soul-worn, and torture-weary Breathed I that prayer, heaved I that sigh He was mute as is the grave, he stood stirless as a tower; At last I looked up, and saw I prayed to stone: I asked help of that which to help had no power I sought love where love was utterly unknown Idolator I kneeled to an idol cut in rock! I might have slashed my flesh and drawn my heart's best blood: The Granite God had felt no tenderness, no shock; My Baal had not seen nor heard nor understood In dark remorse I rose: I rose in darker shame; Self-condemned I withdrew to an exile from my kind; A solitude I sought where mortal never came Hoping in its wilds forgetfulness to find Now, Heaven, heal the wound which I still deeply feel; Thy glorious hosts look not in scorn on our poor race; Thy King eternal doth no iron judgement deal On suffering worms who seek forgiveness, comfort, grace He gave our hearts to love: He will not love despise E'en if the gift be lost, as mine was long ago; He will forgive the fault, will bid the offender rise Wash out with dews of bliss the fiery brand of woe; And give a sheltered place beneath the unsullied throne Whence the soul redeemed may mark Time's fleeting course round earth; And know its trials overpast, its sufferings gone And feel the peril past of Death's immortal birth