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