The Hymnal ‎#545

545. I bow my forehead to the dust

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.

2 No offering of my own I have,
Nor works my faith to prove;
I can but give the gifts He gave,
And plead His love for love.

3 I dimly guess, from blessings known,
Of greater out of sight;
And, with the chastened Psalmist, own
His judgments too are right.

4 And if my heart and flesh are weak
To bear an untried pain,
The bruisèd reed He will not break,
But strengthen and sustain.

5 I know not what the future hath
Of marvel or surprise,
Assured alone that life and death
His mercy underlies.

6 And so beside the silent sea
I wait the muffled oar:
No harm from Him can come to me
On ocean or on shore.

7 I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.

8 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.

Amen.

Text Information

• First Line: I bow my forehead to the dust
• Author: John G. Whittier (1867, arr.)
• Publication Date: 1895

Tune Information

(No tune information)