So there he lies, no life nor breath; but hurt

So there he lies, no life nor breath; but hurt
Is left to me, to sit and contemplate
How could it be? With deeper grief and hate
Than I could dare confess with word overt.
LORD, I too, humbled to the dust, to dirt
My soul does decompose within the Gate,
And so 'tis we who do the least, who wait,
Who must display Your pow'r over earth:
Will he, will I? Can these bones live again?
O LORD, You know! O LORD, You only know
The way that dirt by Breath becomes a man,
So breathe across both heart and humus now
With Word overt; let life immortal reign
Within the Gate where grief does never grow.