I render this service; I have given,
for grace in likeness to me was shown.
Nay, it's hardly right to count it even,
this life, this strength, this all, not my own.
Lest I fall to pride; to flames be taken,
I flee, take flight, to pastures made known.
Take this then, my life, to Thine hands graven,
wipe every tear; remove every groan.
In such a hope as this, the promised heaven,
till then in service, this seed, be sown.
No comments:
Post a Comment