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