I Weep, but Do Not Yield

I weep

but do not yield

I mourn

yet still re­bel;

My in­most soul seems steeled

Cold and im­mov­able.

The wound is sharp and deep;

My spir­it bleeds with­in;

And yet I lie asleep

And still I sin

I sin.

My bruis­èd soul com­plains

Of stripes with­out

with­in;

I feel these pierc­ing pains—

Yet still I sin

I sin.

O’er me the low cloud hung

Its weight of shade and fear;

Unmoved I passed along

And still my sin is here.

Yon mass­ive moun­tain-peak

The lightn­ing rends at will;

The rock can melt or break—

I am un­brok­en still.

My sky was once noon-bright

My day was calm the while

I loved the plea­sant light

The sun­shine’s ha­ppy smile.

I said

my God

oh

sure

This love will kin­dle mine;

Let but this calm en­dure

Then all my heart is Thine.

Alas

I knew it not!

The sum­mer flung its gold

Of sun­shine o’er my lot

And yet my heart was cold.

Trust me with pros­per­ous days

I said

O spare the rod;

Thee and Thy love I’ll praise

My gra­cious

pa­tient God.

Must I be smit­ten

Lord?

Are gent­ler mea­sures vain?

Must I be smit­ten

Lord?

Can no­thing save but pain?

Thou trust­ed me a while;

Alas! I was de­ceived;

I re­veled in the smile

Yet to the dust I cleaved.

Then fierce the tem­pest broke

I knew from whom it came;

I read in that sharp stroke

A Fa­ther’s hand and name.

And yet I did Thee wrong;

Dark thoughts of Thee came in—

A fro­ward

self­ish throng—

And I al­lowed the sin!

I did Thee wrong

my God

I wronged Thy truth and love;

I fret­ted at the rod

Against Thy pow­er I strove.

I said

my God

at length

This sto­ny heart re­move;

Deny all oth­er strength

But give me strength to love.

Come near­er

near­er still

Let not Thy light d­epart;

Bend

break this stu­bborn will

Dissolve this ir­on heart.

Less way­ward let me be

More pli­able and mild

In glad sim­pli­ci­ty

More like a trust­ful child.

Less

less of self each day

And more

my God

of Thee;

O keep me in the way

However rough it be.

Less of the flesh each day

Less of the world and sin;

More of Thy Son

I pray

More of Thy­self with­in.

Riper and rip­er now

Each hour let me be­come

Less fit for scenes be­low

More fit for such a home.

More mold­ed to Thy will

Lord

let Thy serv­ant be

Higher and high­er still

Liker and lik­er Thee.

Leave naught that is un­meet;

Of all that is mine own;

Strip me

and so com­plete

My train­ing for the throne.