Our almighty Lord, eternal, unfathomed, <br />To Thee Cherubin proclaim "Holy, holy, holy!" <br />To Thee too, Seraph, true love's pure brand; <br />A fiery firmament tho marks Thy glory's stead. <br /> <br />And tho Thou art in all, 'tis there my teary eyes <br />I lift, and there doth my longing heart sigh; <br />For my senses' strengths match not their afflictions, <br />Like servants of masters, Thy mercies they crave. <br /> <br />And my will, to Thy will no whining slave, <br />Like a lowly maid of a lady, awaits Thee <br />To fast lend her a hand, and in Thy just <br />Compassion, alleve the burden's force. <br /> <br />O compassionate Father, whose fontheads <br />Of goodness no weir of sin car divert, <br />Have mercy on us, have mercy: <br />Long we overflow in infamies of our wrong! <br /> <br />No more doth the heart pang, it dies forthwith, <br />As force of ingrates tears our allotment and honor, <br />As lofty pride casts a downward eye on us, <br />Not marking that Thine eyes scorn us not.<br /><br />Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-vi/
