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