The Lord will happiness divine
      On contrite hearts bestow;

Isaiah 57: 15

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.

I sometimes think myself inclined
      To love thee, if I could;
But often feel another mind,
      Averse to all that's good.

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.

O make this heart rejoice or ache;
      Decide this doubt for me;
And if it be not broken, break,
      And heal it, if it be.

~ William Cowper

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