(Lyra Eucharistica, 1863.)
Once I thought to sit so highIn the Palace of the sky;Now, I thank God for His Grace,If I may fill the lowest place.
Once I thought to scale so soonHeights above the changing moon;Now, I thank God for delay--To-day, it yet is called to-day.
While I stumble, halt and blind,Lo! He waiteth to be kind;Bless me soon, or bless me slow,Except He bless, I let not go.
Once for earth I laid my plan,Once I leaned on strength of man,When my hope was swept aside,I stayed my broken heart on pride:
Broken reed hath pierced my hand;Fell my house I built on sand;Roofless, wounded, maimed by sin,Fightings without and fears within:
Yet, a tree, He feeds my root;Yet, a branch, He prunes for fruit;Yet, a sheep, these eves and morns,He seeks for me among the thorns.
With Thine Image stamped of old,Find Thy coin more choice than gold;Known to Thee by name, recallTo Thee Thy home-sick prodigal.
Sacrifice and OfferingNone there is that I can bring,None, save what is Thine alone:I bring Thee, Lord, but of Thine Own--
Broken Body, Blood Outpoured,These I bring, my God, my Lord;Wine of Life, and Living Bread,With these for me Thy Board is spread.