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