The Dying robber raised his aching brow
The dying robber raised his aching brow
To claim the dying Lord for company;
And heard, in answer to his trembling
The promise of the King: Thou—even thou—
Today shalt be in Paradise with me.
We, too, the measure of our guilt
Knowing Thy mercy, Lord, our only plea;
That we, like him, through judgment and distress,
For all the weight of our unworthiness
May win our way to
Paradise with Thee.
But so bewildered is our failing heart,
So dim the luster of Thy royalty,
We hardly know Thee, Lord, for what Thou
Till we begin to take the better part
And lose ourselves in Paradise with Thee.
Then lift our eyes, dear Lord, from this poor
To see Thee reigning in humility,
The King of love; that, wresting gain from loss,
We, too, may climb the ladder of the cross,
To find our home in Paradise
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