Tuesday, October 4, 2016

詩歌分享:The Prayer I Make


The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed,
if you the Spirit give by which I pray.
My unassisted heart is barren clay
which of its native self can nothing feed.

Of good and pious works you are the seed
which quickens where you said it may;
Unless you show us then your own true way,
no man can find it! Father, you mast lead!

Do you then breathe those thoughts into my mind,
by which such virtue may in me be bred
that in your holy footsteps I may tread;
The fetters of my tongue do you unbind,
that I may have the power to sing of you.
And sound, and sound your praises ever lastingly.

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