THOU knowest my tongue, O God, Fain would it bring A precious gift—the songs Thou makest me sing! Thou guidest my steps from eld; If boon too high I ask—Thou gavest me speech, Spurn not my cry! My thoughts hast Thou made pure As whitest fleece; Thou wilt not that mine heart Shall ne'er have peace. Oh, be my refuge now, Even as of yore. My God, my Savior, Thou— Tarry no more! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH IN THE KITCHEN by THOMAS HOOD THE SABBATH MORNING by JOHN LEYDEN THE BIGLOW PAPERS: 6. THE PIOUS EDITOR'S CREED by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE MAGI by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS FAREWELL TO THE PILGRIMS by THEODORE M. BAKKE |