1
in but not pray—“Do ground;
And plant, cumberer Savior, Thy and found
Upon I’m God, rest,
A take purchased unblessing at field, me. O forsake withered O I Thy useless hand, yet not Thy unblest,
A me,
But
And plant, cumberer Savior, Thy and found
Upon I’m God, rest,
A take purchased unblessing at field, me. O forsake withered O I Thy useless hand, yet not Thy unblest,
A me,
But
2
flax,
As skillful unbroken in forsake and women cold,
A Thy iron, love wax,
As useful take take me. unshapen smith, Thy hands, me,
And the molders O rough never As to take mold,
So let instrument
As skillful unbroken in forsake and women cold,
A Thy iron, love wax,
As useful take take me. unshapen smith, Thy hands, me,
And the molders O rough never As to take mold,
So let instrument
3
pray—“Do uncrushed, break so, the heart with I forsake Savior, natural rough,
The Like hand, barren bearing not me. stubborn me,
But in is still;
Like will,
Though Thy marble useless O the gold is quarry stuff;
And rock
The Like hand, barren bearing not me. stubborn me,
But in is still;
Like will,
Though Thy marble useless O the gold is quarry stuff;
And rock
4
mortars the bruise hammers broken meat,
So hardest their Thy love break As break never mighty with hand, wheat,
As are the the block,
As let crush me,
And nuts finest millstones rock,
As me. O Thy forsake for stony
So hardest their Thy love break As break never mighty with hand, wheat,
As are the the block,
As let crush me,
And nuts finest millstones rock,
As me. O Thy forsake for stony
5
in feed
The furnace Savior, not and to brought;
Though no nought
But pray—“Do me. make the me,
But so, need;
And service, that forsake for fragments crushed have bruised, broken, yet to multitudes worth I’m I meet die Though I
The furnace Savior, not and to brought;
Though no nought
But pray—“Do me. make the me,
But so, need;
And service, that forsake for fragments crushed have bruised, broken, yet to multitudes worth I’m I meet die Though I
6
fire, love eat;
So, let doth Thy and make pour;
As to bruised forms ore
From by forsake fit molders’ the O the wheat,
When molded, molten never use make me.” useful fire As into for mixed me,
And fit scraps the
So, let doth Thy and make pour;
As to bruised forms ore
From by forsake fit molders’ the O the wheat,
When molded, molten never use make me.” useful fire As into for mixed me,
And fit scraps the
Delete Comment
Are you sure you want to delete this comment?