Not unto us, O Lord,Not unto us the rapture of the day,The peace of night, or love's divine surprise,High heart, high speech, high deeds, 'mid honouring eyesFor at Thy wordAll these are taken away.
Not unto us, O Lord:To us Thou givest the scorn, the scourge, the scar,The ache of life, the loneliness of Death,The insufferable sufficiency of breath.And with thy swordThou piercest very far.
Not unto us, O Lord;Nay, Lord, but unto her be all things given.My light, and life, and earth, and sky be blasted,But let not all that wealth of loss be wasted:Let Hell affordThe pavement of her Heaven.
