My heart is weary, Lord. Oh, let me know
The power of Truth which Thou canst e'er bestow,
So that these earnest longings, ill-expressed,
Find comfort in Thy love, and I am blessed.
As the way hardens, Lord of power divine,
Hope trembles in this aching heart of mine;
Yet, o'er my efforts stands the sweet behest:
Come unto me, and I will give you rest.
My store seems scanty, Lord. Ah, did I sow
Enough good will to see my harvest grow?
The Master said: Seek first the right to do,
And all these shall be added unto you.
