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