Weary and weak,--accept my weariness; Weary and weak and downcast in my soul, With hope growing less and less, And with the goal Distant and dim,--accept my sore distress. I thought to reach the goal so long ago, At outset of the race I dreamed of rest, Not knowing what now I know Of breathless haste, Of long-drawn straining effort across the waste. One only thing I knew, Thy love of me; One only thing I know, Thy sacred same Love of me full and free, A craving flame Of selfless love of me which burns in Thee. How can I think of thee, and yet grow chill; Of Thee, and yet grow cold and nigh to d**h? Re-energize my will, Rebuild my faith; I will arise and run, Thou giving me breath. I will arise, repenting and in pain; I will arise, and smite upon my breast And turn to Thee again; Thou choosest best, Lead me along the road Thou makest plain. Lead me a little way, and carry me A little way, and listen to my sighs, And store my tears with Thee, And deign replies To feeble prayers;--O Lord, I will arise.