The Contrite Heart. - Isaiah lvii.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.