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Hymn score of: I weep, but do not yield - The Rod (Horatius Bonar/Johannes Thomas Rüegg)

Christ My Song - 515

I weep, but do not yield - The Rod
(Horatius Bonar/Johannes Thomas Rüegg)

The Rod.

1. I weep, but do not yield,
  I mourn, yet still rebel;
my inmost soul seems steeled,
  cold and immovable. PDF - Midi

2. The wound is sharp and deep,
  my spirit bleeds within;
and yet I lie asleep,
  and still I sin, I sin.

3. My bruisèd soul complains
  of stripes without, within;
I feel these piercing pains,
  yet still I sin, I sin.

4. O'er me the low cloud hung
  its weight of shade and fear,
unmoved I passed along,
  and still my sin is here.

5. Yon massive mountain-peak
  the lightning rends at will;
the rock can melt or break,
  I am unbroken still.

6. My sky was once noon-bright,
  my day was calm the while;
I loved the pleasant light,
  the sunshine's happy smile.

7. I said, My God, oh, sure,
  this love will kindle mine;
let but this calm endure,
  then all my heart is thine.

8. Alas, I knew it not!
  The summer flung its gold
of sunshine o'er my lot,
  and yet my heart was cold.

9. Trust me with prosperous days,
  I said, Oh, spare the rod;
thee and thy love I'll praise,
  my gracious, patient God.

10. Must I be smitten, Lord?
  Are gentler measures vain?
Must I be smitten, Lord?
  Can nothing save but pain?

11. Thou trustedst me a while;
  alas! I was deceived;
I revelled in the smile,
  yet to the dust I cleaved.

12. Then the fierce tempest broke;
  I knew from whom it came;
I read in that sharp stroke
  a Father's hand and name.

13. And yet I did thee wrong;
  dark thoughts of thee came in;
a froward, selfish throng, –
  and I allowed the sin!

14. I did thee wrong, my God,
  I wronged thy truth and love,
I fretted at the rod,
  against thy power I strove.

15. I said, My God, at length
  this stony heart remove,
deny all other strength,
  but give me strength to love.

16. Come nearer, nearer still,
  let not thy light depart;
bend, break this stubborn will,
  dissolve this iron heart.

17. Less wayward let me be,
  more pliable and mild;
in glad simplicity
  more like a trustful child.

18. Less, less of self each day,
  and more, my God, of thee;
oh, keep me in the way,
  however rough it be.

19. Less of the flesh each day,
  less of the world and sin;
more of thy Son, I pray,
  more of thyself within.

20. Riper and riper now
  each hour let me become,
less fit for scenes below,
  more fit for such a home.

21. More moulded to thy will,
  Lord, let thy servant be,
higher and higher still,
  liker and liker thee.

22. Leave nought that is unmeet;
  of all that is mine own
strip me, and so complete
  my training for the throne.

Horatius Bonar, Hymns of Faith and Hope I, 1878, 83-86.

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