|
|
| |
|
Why, dearest Lord, can I not pray,
And why am I not free?
Unmannerly distractions come,
And force my thoughts from thee.
The world that looks so dull all day
Crowds on my mind at prayer.
And plans that ask no thought but then
Wake up and meet me there.
I cannot pray; yet, Lord, thou knowest
The pain it is to me
To have my vainly struggling thoughts
Thus torn away from thee.
Had I, dear Lord, no pleasure found
But in the thought of thee,
Prayer would have come unsought, and been
A truer liberty.
Yet thou art often present, Lord,
In weak, distracting prayer;
A sinner out of heart with self
Most often finds thee there.
For prayer that humbles sets the soul
From all illusions free,
And teaches it how utterly,
Dear Lord, it hangs to thee.
My Saviour, why should I complain,
And why fear aught but sin?
Distractions are by onward things,
Thy peace dwells far within.
These surface troubles come and go
Like ruffling of the see;
The deeper depth is out of reach
To all, my God, but thee.
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
|
Meter:
|
8 6 8 6 D (D.C.M.)
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
| |
Dates:
|
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
|
LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
|
Hymn/Song Book
|
Year
|
Song #
|
| 1899 | # 759 |
MUSIC
|
Name:
|
BUTLER
|
|
Meter:
|
8 6 8 6 D (D.C.M.)
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Dates:
|
|
LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
|
Hymn/Song Book
|
Song #
|
Key
|
| # 759 | G | | # 170 | G |
echo ' | ';
|
Hymn Writer
