Engelse Gedigte

Oh, but there are tears and sorrow,
that will leave not the heart by the morrow.
For truly our LORD has declared: Blessed are those that mourn.
Shall we then His words scorn…

Let me sing,
of Thy wondrous deeds,
my heavenly King.
May joy from my heart spring,
take away the bitter and sinful weeds.
This in sincerity my heart for pleads…

Drawing me with Thy grace,
melting my stubborn rebel heart,
with the roar of the Lion and the mute Lamb…

Awaken thou o sweet LORD,
by thy blessed Spirit and thy living word,
my heart that is hard, dull and slow…

O but when the joy is inexpressible and full of glory,
no word, nor song can tell the story…
No eye could see, no ear could hear, no man have sought,
the salvation that was wrought.
And worked out in a heart of one that was bought…

You can remove and cut,
even until you are in a isolated hut,
trying to ring fence and avoid the mud.
Outside looking holy and clean but
once water hits the ground,
you will again hear the sound,
of mud all around.

I come to thee humble and do plea,
send though me where thou wilt,
or tell me to stay as long as thee is with me.
Give heed o Lord give heed,
to my lost and unworthy bleat.

Not in the success nor in the failure of yesterday,
but holding on to the sufficiency of His grace this day.
That is all that can make my heart stay,
and drives me to my knees to pray:

Where shall I run?
Where shall I hide?

I have nothing to bring,
except every evil conceivable thing,
to which my hands daily would cling.
O empty me O Lord of everything,
save me o loving righteous King,
clothe me with with His garment of righteousness,
that I might loudly sing: