Anne Brontë (Энн Бронте)

A Prayer

My God (oh, let me call Thee mine,
Weak, wretched sinner though I be),
My trembling soul would fain be Thine;
My feeble faith still clings to Thee.

Not only for the Past I grieve,
The Future fills me with dismay;
Unless Thou hasten to relieve,
Thy suppliant is a castaway.

I cannot say my faith is strong,
I dare not hope my love is great;
But strength and love to Thee belong;
Oh, do not leave me desolate!

I know I owe my all to Thee;
Oh, TAKE the heart I cannot give!
Do Thou my strength--my Saviour be,
And MAKE me to Thy glory live. 

1. The Arbour
2. In Memory of a Happy Day in February
3. My God! O Let Me Call Thee Mine!
4. Past Days
5. Verses by Lady Geralda

Albert Watson (Альберт Уотсон) A Prayer ("O THOU whose finger-tips")

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1994

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