Self–diffidence

Source of love, and light of day, Tear me from myself away; Every view and thought of mine Cast into the mould of thine; Teach, O teach this faithless heart A consistent constant part; Or, if it must live to grow More rebellious, break it now! Is it thus that I requite Grace and goodness infinite? Every trace of every boon Cancelled and erased so soon! Can I grieve thee, whom I love; Thee, in whom I live and move? If my sorrow touch thee still, Save me from so great an ill! Oh! the oppressive, irksome weight, Felt in an uncertain state; Comfort, peace, and rest, adieu, Should I prove at last untrue! Still I choose thee, follow still Every notice of thy will; But, unstable, strangely weak, Still let slip the good I seek. Self–confiding wretch, I thought I could serve thee as I ought, Win thee, and deserve to feel All the love thou canst reveal; Trusting self, a bruised reed, Is to be deceived indeed: Save me from this harm and loss, Lest my gold turn all to dross! Self is earthly—faith alone Makes an unseen world our own; Faith relinquished, how we roam, Feel our way, and leave our home! Spurious gems our hopes entice, While we scorn the pearl of price; And, preferring servants' pay, Cast the children's bread away.