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Complaining
From the same.
Thou, Lord, my power and wisdom art; O, do not then reject my heart! Thy clay that weeps, Thy dust I am That calls; O, put me not to shame! |
Thy glories, Lord, in all things shine, Thine is the deed, the praise is Thine: A feeble, helpless creature, I Do at Thy pleasure live or die. |
Art Thou all Justice?—shows Thy Word Through every page an angry Lord? Am I all tears?—Is this to live? Is all my business here to grieve? |
Fill not my life’s short hour with pain; Or, O! contract the wretched span: So shall I mount from sorrow free, And find relief and heaven in Thee. |
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