Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord, br And cheer me from the north; br Blow on the treasures of thy word, br And call the spices forth! br br I wish, Thou knowest, to be resign'd, br And wait with patient hope; br But hope delay'd fatigues the mind, br And drinks the spirits up. br br Help me to reach the distant goal; br Confirm my feeble knee; br Pity the sickness of a soul br That faints for love of Thee! br br Cold as I feel this heart of mine, br Yet, since I feel it so, br It yields some hope of life divine br Within, however low. br br I seem forsaken and alone, br I hear the lion roar; br And every door is shut but one, br And that is Mercy's door. br br There, till the dear Deliverer come, br I'll wait with humble prayer; br And when He calls His exile home, br The Lord shall find him there.