60. Wherein He Confesseth His Faults and Seeketh after His Saviour -
WHEREIN HE CONFESSETH HIS FAULTS AND SEEKETH AFTER HIS SAVIOUR
So grinds the load, so groan I constantly
With my heart's folly and habitual plaint,
That sore I dread the way will see me faint
And hand me to the Original Enemy.
Once came a great and welcome Friend to free
By grace unspeakable my soul from taint,
But fled too soon in spite of all restraint
And left me gazing after wistfully.
Only his gentle voice still seems to say:
" O ye that labour, lo, here is the way!
Come unto me when other refuge closes! "
What grace, what destiny, what strength of love
Will give me wings like the appointed dove,
To rise, to rest on the eternal roses?
So grinds the load, so groan I constantly
With my heart's folly and habitual plaint,
That sore I dread the way will see me faint
And hand me to the Original Enemy.
Once came a great and welcome Friend to free
By grace unspeakable my soul from taint,
But fled too soon in spite of all restraint
And left me gazing after wistfully.
Only his gentle voice still seems to say:
" O ye that labour, lo, here is the way!
Come unto me when other refuge closes! "
What grace, what destiny, what strength of love
Will give me wings like the appointed dove,
To rise, to rest on the eternal roses?
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