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 aught is felt, 'tis only pain,

To find I cannot feel.

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.

Oh make this heart rejoice or ache!

Decide this doubt for me;

And if it be not broken, break,--

And heal it if it be.