Anguish

My God and King! to Thee

I bow my knee;

I bow my troubled soul, and greet

With my foul heart thy holy feet.

Cast it, or tread it! it shall do

Even what thou wilt, and praise thee too.

My God, could I weep blood,

Gladly I would,

Or if thou wilt give me that art,

Which through the eyes pours out the heart,

I will exhaust it all, and make

Myself all tears, a weeping lake.

O! 'tis an easy thing

To write and sing;

But to write true, unfeigned verse

Is very hard! O God, disperse

These weights, and give my spirit leave

To act as well as to conceive!

          O my God, hear my cry;

                Or let me die!