Isaiah lvii. 15. THE Lord will happiness divine On contrite hearts bestow; Then tell me, gracious God, is mine A contrite heart, or no? I hear, but seem to hear in vain, Insensible as steel; If aught is felt, 'tis only pain, To find I cannot feel. I sometimes think myself inclined To love thee, if I could; But often feel another mind, Averse to all that's good. My best desires are faint and few, I fain would strive for more; But when I cry, "My strength renew!" Seem weaker than before. Thy saints are comforted, I know, And love thy house of prayer; I therefore go where others go, But find no comfort there. Oh make this heart rejoice or ache; Decide this doubt for me; And if it be not broken, break,-- And heal it if it be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CAPTAIN; AFTER READING HENLEY'S INVICTUS by DOROTHEA DAY THE DAISY; WRITTEN AT EDINBURGH by ALFRED TENNYSON THE VALLEY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE DHOON by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN FIELD BURIAL by CARROLL CARSTAIRS GENIUS LOCI by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN WHAT WENT YE OUT TO SEE? by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |