Lord, I am faint and badly bruised.1 God of my salvation, hear my pleading, for my cries rise in long herds, crowding into one great sorrow, a grief as old as the world, flinching and ringing on an ancient anvil.2 And my thoughts, my weeping thoughts are a case of knives, each one wounding my heart with its own scattered pain.3
1Adapted from Psalms 38:8 WEB.
2Adapted from Gerard Manley Hopkins, "No Worst, There Is None," in Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, ed. Robert Bridges (London: Humphrey Milford, 1918).
3Adapted from George Herbert, "Affliction (IV)," in The Temple (Cambridge: Thomas Buck and Roger Daniel, 1633).
2Adapted from Gerard Manley Hopkins, "No Worst, There Is None," in Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, ed. Robert Bridges (London: Humphrey Milford, 1918).
3Adapted from George Herbert, "Affliction (IV)," in The Temple (Cambridge: Thomas Buck and Roger Daniel, 1633).
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