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The dawn hath broke on Solyma,
Yet in her streets sits wan despair;
The temple greets the early ray,
The voice of gladness is not there;
Gone forth is the accursed decree,
Blush Sun! and hide each starry gem!
Your Maker is condemned, and He
Wears now the thorny diadem.


Did not from yonder battlement
The gathered angels bend and weep,
When crushed with toil, with sorrow spent,
Immanuel trod the painful steep?
Was there not anguish known above--
Say, ye! that knelt before the throne,
When He whose every throb was love,
By man rejected, wept alone?


O, suffering Saviour! let me be
Patient, when crowding cares invade;
Resigned, when earthly blessings flee,
And grateful while enjoyments fade:
Thou was rejected!--Son of God!
Near to the Highest is thy seat;
'Tis mine to meet the stormy flood,
Give me a place beneath thy feet.