A Poetry Prayer

Anne Brontë - pencil sketch (1833)

Sketch of Anne Bronte at 13 by her sister Charlotte, picture from Anne Bronte, The Scarborough Connection

Over at 52 Books in 52 Weeks, Robin gave a challenge last week to read something by Anne Bronte in honor of her birthday. I wasn’t sure I’d read anything by Anne before, although I have enjoyed works by the other Bronte sisters so I thought I’d play along. Anne’s poems are all available online. Here is one of them.

A Prayer

My God (oh, let me call Thee mine,
Weak, wretched sinner though I be),
My trembling soul would fain be Thine;
My feeble faith still clings to Thee.

Not only for the Past I grieve,
The Future fills me with dismay;
Unless Thou hasten to relieve,
Thy suppliant is a castaway.

I cannot say my faith is strong,
I dare not hope my love is great;
But strength and love to Thee belong;
Oh, do not leave me desolate!

I know I owe my all to Thee;
Oh, TAKE the heart I cannot give!
Do Thou my strength—my Saviour be,
And MAKE me to Thy glory live.

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