The LORD will happiness divine On contrite hearts bestow; Then tell me, gracious GOD, is mine A contrite heart, or no? I hear, but seem to hear in vain, Insensible as steel; If aught is felt, 'tis only pain, To find I cannot feel. My best desires are faint and few, I fain would strive for more; But when I cry, 'My strength renew!' Seem weaker than before. Thy saints are comforted, I know, And love Thy house of prayer; I therefore go where others go, But find no comfort there. Oh make this heart rejoice or ache! Decide this doubt for me; And if it be not broken, break, -- And heal it if it be. |