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