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