Lee W. Brainard / Poetry

Not Alone

He woke at morn with heart of stone,
Deep nagging pain down to the bone.
With heavy sigh and weary head,
He sat upon his straw-strewn bed.
Then fixed his eyes on cold stone wall,
And gulped at what must soon befall.
He was all alone

The cheering song of meadow bird,
On window ledge was scarcely heard.
The happy dance of sunbeam bright
Could well have been the dark of night.
This day would be the last he’d see,
For death awaited on the tree.
He was all alone

The jailor came, led him away
Oh, what an awful price to pay
They made him bear the very cross
On which he was to suffer loss.
Through sweat-stung eyes he blinked and peered
At crowds that mocked, and scorned, and jeered,
He was all alone

He struggled up that awful hill,
Then Roman soldiers held him still.
His hands and feet were quickly nailed,
Then he was lifted up — impaled.
His body wracked with searing pain,
He turned his thoughts to God in vain.
He was all alone

Where was the God he’d never served
Now that he faced a death deserved?
But thoughts of seeking fled away;
It seemed too late to change his way.
He cursed his God, his luck, his birth,
And cursed the life he’d spent in mirth.
He was all alone

And then a voice rang loud and true,
“Forgive, they know not what they do.”
He pondered on this heavenly note,
Recalled the sign that Pilate wrote,
Then turned and looked into the face
Of purest love and matchless grace.
He was not alone! (picks up a little bit)

His heart was warmed and burned to know,
Who is this Man that loves men so?
Was he the One who’d stirred the land
With teaching true and healing hand?
Was He the promised Christ and King
Who would someday the kingdom bring?
He was not alone!! (picks up a little more)

“My Lord,” he prayed, “I’ve gone astray.
May grace be found for me today,
That when you come in kingdom bright,
I then shall dwell with you in light.”
“Today, my son, I set you free.
You’ll be in Paradise with me.”
HE WAS NOT ALONE (a little louder)

These precious words did grace impart
Then joy welled up and filled his heart
His path of pain he now deemed sweet,
It brought him to the Saviour’s feet.
His shameful death here on the cross
Now promised gain instead of loss.
HE WAS NOT ALONE! (shouting glory)

Oh, weary saint this lesson heed,
And solace find in hour of need.
The clouds though dark are silver-lined,
For boon and blessing they’re designed.
So when your road seems hard to bear
— just remember —
Your Lord desires to bless you there.
You are not alone! (toned back down to warm)

[first five verses somber, verses 6-7 warm up, verses 8-9 rise to crescendo, last verse toned down]

written by Lee W. Brainard, Harvey, ND

NOTE — This song needs some potent Southern Gospel music written for it. If you are a musician or songwriter who writes music in this field, please consider helping this project along.

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