Zion Said

O slain for love of me, canst Thou be cold,
Be cold and far away in my distress?
Is Thy love also changed, growing less and less,
That carried me through all the days of old?
O Slain for love of me, O Love untold,
See how I flag and fail through weariness:
I flag, while sleepless foes dog me and press
On me: behold, O Lord, O Love, behold!
I am sick for home, the home of love indeed—
I am sick for Love, that dearest name for Thee:
Thou who hast bled, see how my heart doth bleed:
Open Thy bleeding Side and let me in:
Oh hide me in Thy Heart from doubt and sin,
Oh take me to Thyself and comfort me.