With all trials Thou hast tried me,
O my God!
I have known not where to hide me
From the rod.
I have sinned not, yet my guerdon
Is sharp pain;
I am with my daily burden
All but slain.
Disappointment's fiery lashes
Smite me sore,
And my honors seem but ashes
At the core.
I have plowed in bitter weather,
Sown in tears,
And have seen my worst foe gather
All the ears.
With my fame have Malice, Frenzy
Had their way,
Like the lean-ribbed tigress, when she
Rends her prey.
I have dreamed so much, my reason
Turns to doubt.
Jealousy has with its treason
Found me out.
I have searched, pale-faced, forsaken,
Heaven's dome,
While my dead were being taken
From my home.
Do such sorrows make me curse Thee —
Woes like these?
Nay, O God, I laud Thy mercy
On my knees;
For my heart, however riven,
Seared with pain,
Has ne'er loved and not been given