A cry of anguish from the banks of Nile
Of mothers weeping for their little ones,
Of fathers groaning in their cruel toil,
Of daughters scourged, of wrathful trampled sons, —
One bitter cry of bosoms torn and riven
Arises day and night to patient heaven.

What power shall mantle God's ambassador,
And trouble Pharaoh in his idol feasts,
Lead Israel forth to Canaan's promised shore,
And make of slaves a royalty of priests?
One only Name, the God of Abraham,
I AM hath sent thee: I AM that I AM.

Long ages pass'd. A darker cloud o'erhangs
From pole to pole the universal earth;
And Zion, wrestling in her weary pangs,
Bewails with tears and groans the hour of birth;
And yet a bitterer cry ascends to God,
" Woe for the chosen people: Ichabod. "

Say, who is this in man's extremest hour,
Who comes to ransom man from sin and grave?
This veiled Glory, travelling in power
And mighty in humility to save?
The Light of Light, foreseen by Abraham,
Or ever Abraham was born, I AM.

Ages once more have pass'd away like dreams,
And now Creation waits the end of things;
But far and near o'er all the world what seems
Darkens what is with vain imaginings;
And men are chasing shadows from their youth
And grasping unsubstantial mists for truth.

What is that only Name of power to drive
The phantoms of deceitful night away,
That dying man may save his soul alive,
And stand God's freeman in the light of day?
Hark, on the throne of God and of the Lamb
The name from everlasting is I AM.