Page:Poems Shipton.djvu/148

---

Look on my sick, my dumb, my dying,
 Touch Thou my blind that they may see;
This broken heart, in anguish sighing:
 I bring them one and all to Thee.

My heart's best treasures, here I give them,
 To be within Thy temple stored;
And as life's landmarks there I leave them,
 "Because I asked (them) of the Lord."

When love would fail in fruitless yearning,
 Thy golden censer wafts my prayers;
I see the perfumed incense burning:
 All things are mine, all things are theirs.

I bring the care, sharp and oppressing;
 The way perplexed; the path untrod;
This feeble service for Thy blessing,
 Oh crown it, "Given thee of God!"

I ask for patience, faith, and meekness,
 And love divine that all endures:
Give me Thy strength to meet my weakness,
 Since Thou hast said, "All things are yours."

I bring the sin my soul distressing,
 That Thou mayst cleanse me pure and white;
The faint foreboding past expressing,
 But clear before Thy searching sight.