Уильям Купер (William Cowper)

Olney Hymn 33. The Waiting Soul

    Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord,
        And cheer me from the north; 
    Blow on the treasures of thy word,
        And call the spices forth!

    I wish, Thou knowest, to be resign'd,
        And wait with patient hope; 
    But hope delay'd fatigues the mind,
        And drinks the spirits up.

    Help me to reach the distant goal;
        Confirm my feeble knee; 
    Pity the sickness of a soul
        That faints for love of Thee!

    Cold as I feel this heart of mine,
        Yet, since I feel it so, 
    It yields some hope of life divine
        Within, however low.

    I seem forsaken and alone,
        I hear the lion roar; 
    And every door is shut but one,
        And that is Mercy's door.

    There, till the dear Deliverer come,
        I'll wait with humble prayer; 
    And when He calls His exile home,
        The Lord shall find him there.