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.