1 I bow my forehead to the dust,
I veil mine eyes for shame,
And urge, in trembling self-distrust,
A prayer without a claim.
2 No offering of my own I have,
Nor works my faith to prove;
I can but give the gifts He gave,
And plead His love for love.
3 I dimly guess, from blessings known,
Of greater out of sight;
And, with the chastened Psalmist, own
His judgments too are right.
4 And if my heart and flesh are weak
To bear an untried pain,
The bruisèd reed He will not break,
But strengthen and sustain.
5 I know not what the future hath
Of marvel or surprise,
Assured alone that life and death
His mercy underlies.
6 And so beside the silent sea
I wait the muffled oar:
No harm from Him can come to me
On ocean or on shore.
7 I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.
8 And Thou, O Lord, by whom are seen
Thy creatures as they be,
Forgive me if too close I lean
My human heart on Thee.
The Hymnal: Published by the authority of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., 1895
|First Line:||I bow my forehead to the dust|
|Author:||John Greenleaf Whittier (1867)|