In the shadowed realm where doubts entwine,
Where bruised reeds and wicks resign,
There blooms a hope, a steadfast sign,
In Isaiah's verse, a truth divine.
For in the frailty of our frame,
In every stumble, every shame,
God's mercy flows, a gentle flame,
To soothe the bruised, the weak, the tame.
Though reed may bend, and wick grow dim,
His touch revives, dispels the grim,
With justice true, yet mercy's hymn,
He lifts us up, our strength within.
So fear not, weary soul, dismayed,
In darkest hour, be not afraid,
For God, in love, has firmly laid,
His promise sure, His hand displayed.
Though reeds may bruise, and wicks may wane,
In His embrace, we shall remain,
For in His mercy, we sustain,
To rise again, and shine, and reign.