That better I could not love Thee; But now I feel and know That only when we love, we find How far our hearts remain behind The love they should bestow. While we had little care to call On Thee, and scarcely pray'd at all, We seem'd enough to pray: But now we only think with shame, How seldom to Thy glorious Name Our lips their offerings pay. And when we gave yet slighter heed Unto our brother's suffering need, Our hearts reproach'd us then Not half so much as now, that we With such a careless eye can see The woes and wants of men. In doing is this knowledge won, To see what yet remains undone; With this our pride repress, And give us grace, a growing store, That day by day we may do more, And may esteem it less. |