Depths

I lift my voice up from the deep,
unknowing if to heav'n it rise,
if you will hear and promise keep
from there, enthroned upon the skies.
I know you slumber not nor sleep,
and naught on earth escapes your eyes.
Then look down, Lord: The drop is steep
to where we sit and raise our cries.

Can any reach from here to there?
Or span th'abyss between us two?
Could any stand upon the air
and, higher than we, reach to you?
None but the Christ, who godhead shares
and yet is feeble, human, too,
could know this deep and damned despair
and still hold to the hope that's true.

Then Christ, when in the depths we cry,
lift up your voice to join with ours.
You who came down to earth to die,
lift up our prayers beyond the stars.
You, son of man, were lifted high
but not so high, Lord, not so far
as would to your own kin deny
your mercy or your bitter scars.