I Bow My Forehead to the Dust (EN 414)

EN 414 I Bow My Forehead to the Dust

Job.42.6

Versi Version 1

1

I bow my forehead to the dust,

I veil mine eyes for shame,

And urge, in trembling self distrust,

A prayer without a claim.

No offering of mine own I have,

Nor works my faith to prove;

I can but give the gifts He gave,

And plead His love for love.

2

I dimly guess, from blessings known,

Of greater out of sight;

And, with the chastened psalmist, own

His judgments too are right.

And if my heart and flesh are weak

To bear an untried pain,

The bruised reed He will not break,

But strengthen and sustain.

3

I know not what the future hath

Of marvel or surprise,

Assured alone that life and death

His mercy underlies.

And so beside the silent sea

I wait the muffled oar;

No harm from Him can come to me

On ocean or on shore.

4

I know not where His islands lift

Their fronded palms in air;

I only know I cannot drift

Beyond His love and care;

And Thou, O Lord, by Whom are seen

Thy creatures as they be,

Forgive me if too close I lean

My human heart on Thee.

OK

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