A Bruised Reed Shall He Not Break

I will accept thy will to do and be,         Thy hatred and intolerance of sin,         Thy will at least to love, that burns within         And thirsteth after Me:     So will I render fruitful, blessing still,         The germs and small beginnings in thy heart,         Because thy will cleaves to the better part. -         Alas, I cannot will.     Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive         The inner unseen longings of the soul,         I guide them turning towards Me; I control         And charm hearts till they grieve:     If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass,         Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love;         For I have power in earth and heaven above. -         I cannot wish, alas!     What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet         I still must strive to win thee and constrain:         For thee I hung upon the cross in pain,         How then can I forget?     If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate,         Nor choose, nor wish, - resign thyself, be still         Till I infuse love, hatred, longing, will. -         I do not deprecate.