HARD it is to live without Thee,

Hard to brave Thy cold disdain,

Hard to check the burst of weeping,

Harder still a smile to feign.

Hard it is to sit and listen

To Thy taunts; more hard to fly.

Life is death without Thy presence,

Not to gaze on Thee’s to die.

Vain it is to shun Thee; vainly

Would I strive Thy scorn to slight;

Once beholding Thee is madness,

Reason lives not in Thy sight.