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