Bright Harvest by Grace Noll Crowell - HTML preview

The Great Repairer

O

THOU, the great repairer of the soul,

I bring my life to thee. The case seems

whole,

But well I know there is some troubling thing

Hurting the inner workings. The main spring

Must need attention—something foreign clogs

The meshing of the inner working cogs.

I do not understand, I only know

Too often I run fast, and then too slow,

And at times my small hands stop. O thou All

Wise,

Fix on me thy penetrating eyes,

Discover what is wrong and make it right.

Polish the jewels, make them glow with light;

Make all the outer and the inner workings shine,

Until my time runs accurately with thine.

˙70˙