O glorious hands of grace
Who hath giveth thine love to face
And quickest steal it from my heart.
For so long that it stayed away from my body, so far
That it hardened, no more like the bread that I was used to.
Who hath told thee to take it away piece by piece
So I can giveth only half of my heart? How can I please
Thy love if I cannot offer it even for myself?
For it was all I wanted and hath taketh back.
If thou cannot refill the cup where I quench my thirst,
Then where is thy ship with thy banner for me to carry on?