"O Lord, my God!" I oft have said,
"Had I some other cross instead
Of this I bear from day to day,
'Twere easier to go on my way.
"I do not murmur at its weight;
That Thou hast made proportionate
To my scant strength; but oh! full sore
It presses where it pressed before.
"Change for a space, however brief,
The wonted burden, that relief
May o'er my aching shoulders steal,
And the deep bruise have room to heal!"
While thus I sadly sighed to-day
I heard my gracious Father say,
"Can'st thou not trust my love, my child,
And to thy cross be reconciled?
"I fashioned it thy needs to meet;
Nor were thy discipline complete
Without that very pain and bruise
Which thy weak heart would fain refuse."
Ashamed, I answered, "As Thou wilt!
I own my faithlessness and guilt;
Welcome the weary pain shall be,
Since only that is best for me."