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