My God, till I receive Thy stroke,
How like a beast was I!
So unaccustomd to the yoke,
So backward to comply.
With grief my just reproach I bear;
Shame fills me at the thought,
How frequent my rebellions were,
What wickedness I wrought.
Thy merciful restraint I scornd,
And left the pleasant road;
Yet turn me, and I shall be turnd;
Thou are the Lord my God.
“Is Ephraim banishd from my thoughts,
Or vile in my esteem'
No,” saith the Lord, “with all his faults,
I still remember him.
“Is he a dear and pleasant child'
Yes, dear and pleasant still;
Though sin his foolish heart beguiled,
And he withstood my will.
“My sharp rebuke has laid him low
He seeks my face again;
My pity kindles at his woe,
He shall not seek in vain.”