Twice

I took my heart in my hand (O my love, O my love), I said: Let me fall or stand, Let me live or die, But this once hear me speak- (O my love, O my love)- Yet a woman's words are weak; You should speak, not I. You took my heart in your hand With a friendly smile, With a critical eye you scanned, Then set it down, And said: It is still unripe, Better wait a while; Wait while the skylarks pipe, Till the corn grows brown As you set it down it broke- Broke, but I did not wince; I smiled at the speech you spoke, At your judgment that I heard: But I have not often smiled Since then, nor questioned since, Nor cared for corn-flowers wild, Nor sung with the singing bird. I take my heart in my hand, O my God, O my God, My broken heart in my hand: Thou hast seen, judge Thou My hope was written on sand, O my God, O my God: Now let Thy judgment stand- Yea, judge me now This contemned of a man, This marred one heedless day, This heart take Thou to scan Both within and without: Refine with fire its gold, Purge Thou its dross away- Yea, hold it in Thy hold, Whence none can pluck it out. I take my heart in my hand- I shall not die, but live- Before Thy face I stand; I, for Thou callest such: All that I have I bring, All that I am I give, Smile Thou and I shall sing, But shall not question much.