The LORD will happiness divine

On contrite hearts bestow:

Then tell me, gracious GOD, is mine

A contrite heart, or no?

I hear, but seem to hear in vain,

Insensible as steel;

If ought is felt, ’tis only pain,

To find I cannot feel.

I sometimes think myself inclined

To love thee, if I could;

But often feel another mind,

Averse to all that’s good.

My best desires are faint and few,

I fain would strive for more;

But when I cry, “My strength renew,”

Seem weaker than before.

Thy saints are comforted I know,

And love thy house of prayer;

I therefore go where others go,

But find no comfort there.

O make this heart rejoice, or ache;

Decide this doubt for me;

And if it be not broken, break,

And heal it, if it be.