DEAR Master, long I’ve sought

 grain of “wheat” to find,

My heart’s desire has been,

Just one with truth to bind!

Perhaps Thou canst not trust

Thy servant with this work.

Because some earth-born pride

Within my breast cloth lurk.

If thou dost find this, Lord,

Oh. send affliction’s fire,

Burn out the dross, the gold refine,

And grant my heart’s desire!

Perhaps I’ve sought a path.

Thou hast not marked for me,—

Forgive. I only thought

Some work to do for Thee!

I own no will of mine,

The place I would not choose.

But simply give mine all

To Thee as Thou canst use.

 My thoughts, my words, my deeds,

      Dear Lord, make pure by fire.—

Ah, then, I know that Thou

  Canst grant my heart’s desire!

***********

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