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