Like Peter wept, Lord -
So now, do I.
You know our grievous deeds,
Our headstrong - worthless - tries.
How overwhelming a view,
Though; how dearly, vividly true:
You infuse into my weakness
A purpose bright, victorious -
To think that through my feeble frailty
Proclaimed You are, all Glorious!
Oh that in the hearts of man be stirred
The victorious, noble theme -
Of God adored
Higher than praises afford:
May the songs of delight joyously ring!
Of the names of men disregard
They are naught - a title undeserved;
Lift instead your face to meet true brilliance:
In the Beloved, be submerged.
It is nothing, what I am considered;
A chasing of the wind, to others please.
But... oh, to count it all a loss but HIM!
May it be God the Glorious in me, man sees!
