Divine Sympathy

by Viscount Powerscourt

Jesus, my sorrow lies too deep

For human ministry;

It knows not how to tell itself

To any but to Thee.

Thou dost remember still, amid

The glories of God's throne,

The sorrows of mortality,

For they were once Thine own.

Yes, for as if Thou would'st be God,

E'en in Thy misery,

There's been no sorrow but Thine own

Untouch'd by sympathy.

Jesus, my fainting spirit brings

Its fearfulness to Thee,

Thine eye at least can penetrate

The clouded mystery.

And is it not enough, enough,

This holy sympathy?

There is no sorrow e'er so deep

But I may bring to Thee.

T. A. P.

Written after the death of her husband, Viscount Powerscourt, a year after her marriage. Lady Powerscourt was then only 23 years of age and she herself died at the age of 36.

Divine Sympathy

by Viscount Powerscourt

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