Twice

 I took my heart in my hand 
(O my love, O my love), 
I said: Let me fall or stand, 
Let me live or die, 
But this once hear me speak- 
(O my love, O my love)- 
Yet a woman's words are weak; 
You should speak, not I.


You took my heart in your hand 
With a friendly smile, 
With a critical eye you scanned, 
Then set it down, 
And said: It is still unripe, 
Better wait a while; 
Wait while the skylarks pipe, 
Till the corn grows brown

As you set it down it broke- 
Broke, but I did not wince; 
I smiled at the speech you spoke, 
At your judgment that I heard: 
But I have not often smiled 
Since then, nor questioned since, 
Nor cared for corn-flowers wild, 
Nor sung with the singing bird.


I take my heart in my hand, 
O my God, O my God, 
My broken heart in my hand: 
Thou hast seen, judge Thou 
My hope was written on sand, 
O my God, O my God: 
Now let Thy judgment stand- 
Yea, judge me now

This contemned of a man, 
This marred one heedless day, 
This heart take Thou to scan 
Both within and without: 
Refine with fire its gold, 
Purge Thou its dross away- 
Yea, hold it in Thy hold, 
Whence none can pluck it out.


I take my heart in my hand- 
I shall not die, but live- 
Before Thy face I stand; 
I, for Thou callest such: 
All that I have I bring, 
All that I am I give, 
Smile Thou and I shall sing, 
But shall not question much.

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