O God! whose thoughts are brightest light,
Whose love runs always clear,
To whose kind wisdom sinning souls
Amidst their sins are dear,
Sweeten my bitter-thoughted heart
With charity like thine,
Till self shall be the only spot
On earth which does not shine.
I often see in my own thoughts,
When they lie nearest Thee,
That the worst men I ever knew
Were better men than me.
He whom no praise can reach is aye
Men's least attempts approving;
Whom justice makes all-merciful
Omniscience makes all-loving.
How thou canst think so well of us
Yet be the God thou art,
Is darkness to my intellect,
But sunshine to my heart.
Yet habits linger in the soul;
More grace, O Lord! more grace!
More sweetness from thy loving heart!
More sunshine from thy face!
The discord is within, which jars
So sadly in life's song;
'Tis we, not they, who are in fault,
When others seem so wrong.
'Tis we who weigh upon ourselves;
Self is the irksome weight;
To those who can see straight themselves,
All things look always straight.
My God, with what surpassing love
Thou lovest all on earth;
How good the least good is to thee,
How much each soul is worth!
All bitterness is from ourselves;
All sweetness is from thee;
Sweet God! for evermore be thou
Fountain and fire in me!
--Frederick William Faber.