O Lord my God, receive my prayer
Which is according to thy holy will;
For if, O great king, it should please thee still
...
In my sad, quiet song,
A melancholy air,
I shall look deep and long
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O my Lord and my God, I have trusted in Thee.
O my dear Jesus, no liberate me.
In shackle and chain, in torture and pain, I long for Thee.
...
One thought, that is my torment and delight,
Ebbs and flows bittersweet within my heart
And between doubt and hope rends me apart
...
And now at last she starts to comprehend
How poor her judgement was and to discover
She should not undervalue such a lover,
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She does your bidding for her honour's sake.
I do your bidding and have naught but strife
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'Tis not because my strength outranks both flame and brand,
Nor because my facets display a cunning hand,
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Lord, grant your mercy unto me:
Teach me some way that he may know
My love for him is not an empty show
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My love for him is growing and shall grow
Throughout my life as long as there's a part
Where it can grow to greatness in that heart;
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Into his hands and wholly in his power
I place my son, my honour and my all,
My country, my subjects, my surrendered soul
...