I took my heart in my hand (O my love, O my love),I said: Let me fall or stand, Let me live or die,But this once hear me speak-- (O my love, O my love)--Yet a woman's words are weak; You should speak, not I.
You took my heart in your hand With a friendly smile,With a critical eye you scanned, Then set it down,And said: It is still unripe, Better wait awhile;Wait while the skylarks pipe, Till the corn grows brown.
As you set it down it broke-- Broke, but I did not wince;I smiled at the speech you spoke, At your judgement that I heard:But I have not often smiled Since then, nor questioned since,Nor cared for corn-flowers wild, Nor sung with the singing bird.
I take my heart in my hand, O my God, O my God,My broken heart in my hand: Thou hast seen, judge Thou.My hope was written on sand, O my God, O my God:Now let thy judgement stand-- Yea, judge me now.
This contemned of a man, This marred one heedless day,This heart take Thou to scan Both within and without:Refine with fire its gold, Purge thou its dross away--Yea, hold it in Thy hold, Whence none can pluck it out.
I take my heart in my hand-- I shall not die, but live--Before Thy face I stand; I, for Thou callest such:All that I have I bring, All that I am I give,Smile Thou and I shall sing, But shall not question much.