MY God (oh, let me call thee mine, Weak, wretched sinner though I be), My trembling soul would fain be thine; My feeble faith still clings to thee. Not only for the past I grieve, The future fills me with dismay; Unless Thou hasten to relieve, Thy suppliant is a castaway. I cannot say my faith is strong, I dare not hope my love is great; But strength and love to thee belong; Oh, do not leave me desolate! I know I owe my all to thee; Oh, take the heart I cannot give! Do Thou my strength -- my Saviour be, And make me to thy glory live. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLAINT OF THE DISGUSTED BRITON IN THE STATES by GEORGE SANTAYANA PEACE; A STUDY by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THE NEW CHURCH ORGAN by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON A CRADLE SONG by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE BELLS AT MIDNIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH FROM HIDDEN SOURCE by JEAN ANDERSON A REPLY TO AN IMITATION OF THE SECOND ODE OF HORACE by RICHARD BENTLEY |