Struggling and struggling,
Sighing and hairs standing on end,
Rising and rising again,
My Lord! Thy Feet I reached.
Now, give me not up.
Thou alone art my refuge.
Thus I prostrate low before Thee.
My heart repeated, breaking,
As I stand like the painted picture, unmoved.
When is the day that Thou will again accept me in Thy service?
Oh! Thou, Light Divine! The Lord Primal!