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419 |
O God, unblessing and unblest,
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| 1. | O God, unblessing and unblest, |
| | A withered plant, but not at rest, |
| | A useless cumberer I'm found |
| | Upon Thy field, Thy purchased ground; |
| | And yet I pray-"Do not forsake me, |
| | But in Thy hand, O Savior, take me. |
| 2. | As women take unbroken flax, |
| | As molder take unshapen wax, |
| | As smith, the iron, rough and cold, |
| | A useful instrument to mold, |
| | So in Thy skillful hands, O take me, |
| | And never let Thy love forsake me." |
| 3. | Like rock uncrushed, the stubborn will, |
| | Though bearing gold is barren still; |
| | Like marble in the quarry rough, |
| | The natural heart is useless stuff; |
| | And so, I pray-"Do not forsake me, |
| | But with Thy hand, O Savior, break me. |
| 4. | As mortars crush the hardest rock, |
| | As hammers break the stony block, |
| | As millstones bruise the finest wheat, |
| | As nuts are broken for their meat, |
| | So with Thy mighty hand, O break me, |
| | And never let Thy love forsake me. |
| 5. | Though crushed and broken, yet I'm nought |
| | But fragments to the furnace brought; |
| | Though bruised, I have no worth to feed |
| | The multitudes that die in need; |
| | And so, I pray-"Do not forsake me, |
| | But meet for service, Savior, make me. |
| 6. | As into useful forms the ore |
| | >From molten scraps the molders' pour; |
| | As fire doth make the bruisd wheat, |
| | When mixed and molded, fit to eat; |
| | So, fit for use by fire, O make me, |
| | And never let Thy love forsake me." |