Heavy

At the draw,
Of a coarse grained,
And spotted day;
As I fall heavily,
Before the table
Of the Lord;
Sighing keenly,
For the lost flower
Of blamelessness;
And quivering,
At an impure lip.
'Oh Lord', I moaned;
'At times, Thy purity
Flees from me;
Like a fleeting vision
Of the night;
Create in me,
A new heart;
Renew Thy spirit
Within me;
And restore unto me,
The joy of my
Salvation.'