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But if it hath been sin of mine,
Then show that sin to me, Not to get back the sweetness lost,
But to make peace with Thee.
One thing alone, dear Lord! I dread; —
To have a secret spot That separates my soul from Thee,
And yet to know it not.
For when the tide of graces set
So full upon my heart, I know, dear Lord! how faithlessly
I did my little part.
I know how well my heart hath earned
A chastisement like this, In trifling many a grace away
In self-complacent bliss.
But if this weariness hath come
A present from on high, Teach me to find the hidden wealth
That in its depths may lie.
So in this darkness I may learn
To tremble and adore, To sound my own vile nothingness,
And thus to love Thee more, —