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"himself he cannot save."
"HIMSELF HE CANNOT SAVE."
O SCOFFER! He who from the cross
Looked down thy dark abysm of loss,
And knew His pain alone could win
Such souls as thine from gulfs of sin,—
His death-groan mournful echo gave:
"Myself I cannot save."
Looked down thy dark abysm of loss,
And knew His pain alone could win
Such souls as thine from gulfs of sin,—
His death-groan mournful echo gave:
"Myself I cannot save."
Words breathed in scorn, yet understood
By Him to bear a sense of good:
The secret of the glorious strife
Between the powers of death and life,
Love's deepest truth,—self-sacrifice,—
Hid in that mockery lies.
By Him to bear a sense of good:
The secret of the glorious strife
Between the powers of death and life,
Love's deepest truth,—self-sacrifice,—
Hid in that mockery lies.
And he must understand it so
Who would relieve a brothers woe:
He cannot shun his own distress;
He hastes, with Christ-like earnestness,
Although the way be through his grave:
Himself he cannot save.
Who would relieve a brothers woe:
He cannot shun his own distress;
He hastes, with Christ-like earnestness,
Although the way be through his grave:
Himself he cannot save.
