The Foe

My foe did strike me, Lord, I am not meek, I cannot turn to him the other cheek, Rather to Thee for vengeance do I cry, Tooth for a tooth, dear Lord, eye for an eye. Had he but felled me, giving blow for blow, My rage had little flame, my hate were slow, I could forgive stood he to me alone, But through those dearer souls he reached my own. Oh, brave heads slain, grey locked and darkly brown, I saw you bleed beneath the martyr's crown, Dear eyes that closed on unfulfilled desire, I saw you robbed of your celestial fire. Pale lips that cried one prayer in parting breath, I knew you dumb in silence and in death. My foe hath struck me, Lord, I am not meek, I cannot turn to him the other cheek.