I am a poor and feeble worm, A straw, the lightest passing storm Could drive away before it. When Thou Thy hand, that all doth stay, Dost on me e'er so lightly lay, I know not how t' endure it. Lord! I am nought, but Thou art He Who art all--all belongs to Thee, And live and move I ever In Thee--if Thou me terrifi'st, No store of grace to help suppli'st I can recover never. I am unjust, but true Thy heart, I evil am--Thou holy art, This thought should shame be giving, That I in such an evil stand, Should from Thy mild paternal hand, The least good be receiving. Nought else but ill from infancy Up e'en till now I've done to Thee, In sin was I begotten; And didst Thou not in faithfulness My sin remit, and me release, Lost were I and forgotten. Let boasting then be far from me, What is Thy due I render Thee, To Thee alone be glory! O Christ! may while I live below My spirit, and what thence may flow, With reverence adore Thee. And if aught hath been done by me That is well done, it came from Thee, My pow'r could do it never. Thee thanks and honour, Lord! I bring, All my life long Thy praise I'll sing, And tell Thy glory ever. SONG OF THANKSGIVING AFTER GREAT SORROW AND AFFLICTION. After clouds we see the sun, Joy we feel when grief is gone, After bitter pain and sore Cometh consolation's hour. Then my soul that sank before, Even down to hell's dark door, To the heav'nly choir doth soar. He 'fore whom the world shall flee, In my spirit comforts me, With His high and mighty hand, Tears me from the hellish band. With the love to me He shows, Swells my heart and overflows, And my blood with rapture glows. Did I e'er 'neath sorrow bend? Did my heart grief ever rend? Have I e'er been vexèd sore? Satan e'er fool'd me before? Aye--but henceforth am I free, Faithfully thou shieldest me, My salvation comes from Thee! What thou mean'st, my bitter foe! By thy deeds tow'rds me I know; Truly thou with all thy pow'r Seek'st me ever to devour. Had I too much trusted thee, Then had'st thou, ere I could see, In thy snares entangled me. All the guile I know full well That in thy bad heart doth dwell; Thou my God malign'st to me, Turn'st His praise to obloquy; Speaketh out His loving heart, Keeps He silence on His part, All He doth dost thou pervert. If I hope and look for good, If I'm in a joyous mood, From my mind thou driv'st away Every good thought--and dost say: "God doth far from thee abide, Riseth high misfortune's tide Round thee now on every side."