None with Him

My god, to live: how didst Thou bear to live,
  Preaching and teaching, toiling to and fro?
Few men accepting what Thou hadst to give,
        Few men prepared to know
  Thy face, to see the truth Thou cam'st to show.

My God, to die: how didst Thou bear to die
  That long slow death in weariness of pain?
A curse and an astonishment, past by,
        Pointed at, mocked again,
  By men for whom Thy blood was shed in vain.

Whilst I do hardly bear my easy life,
  And hardly face my easy-coming death:
I turn to flee before the tug of strife;
        And shrink with troubled breath
  From sleep, that is not death, Thy Spirit saith.