| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
DRYNESS IN PRAYER. l61
Then when I knelt to meditate, Sweet thoughts came o'er my soul,
Countless and bright and beautiful, Beyond my own control.
What can have locked those fountains up?
Those visions what hath stayed? What sudden act hath thus transformed
My sunshine into shade ?
This freezing heart, O Lord ! this will
Dry as the desert sand, Good thoughts that will not come, bad thoughts
That come without command, —
A faith that seems not faith, a hope
That cares not for its aim, A love that none the hotter grows
At Thy most blessed Name,—
The weariness of prayer, the mist
O'er conscience overspread, The chill repugnance to frequent
The feast of angels' Bread : —
If this dear change be Thine, O Lord!
If it be Thy sweet will, Spare not, but to the very brim
The bitter chalice fill |
||
|
ii |
||