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