I CANNOT skill of these thy ways: Lord, thou didst make me, yet thou woundest me: Lord, thou dost wound me, yet thou dost relieve me: Lord, thou relievest, yet I die by thee: Lord, thou dost kill me, yet thou dost reprieve me. But, when I mark my life and praise, Thy justice me most fitly payes: For I do praise thee, yet I praise thee not: My prayers mean thee, yet my prayers stray: I would do well, yet sinne the hand hath got: My soul doth love thee, yet it loves delay. I cannot skill of these my ways. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOLIATH AND DAVID by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES A TERRIBLE INFANT by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON AN HORATIAN ODE UPON CROMWELL'S RETURN FROM IRELAND by ANDREW MARVELL THE OLD HOKUM BUNCOMBE by ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD THE TWO MASKS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ON RETURN FROM THE SHORE by HELEN IFFLA BAY THE ARTIST TO HIS WIFE by STANLEY KILNER BOOTH DARTMOOR: SUNSET AT CHAGFORD: RESPONDENT DHMIOURGOS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |