Twice

I took my heart in my hand         (O my love, O my love),     I said: Let me fall or stand,         Let me live or die,     But this once hear me speak -         (O my love, O my love) -     Yet a woman's words are weak;         You should speak, not I.     You took my heart in your hand         With a friendly smile,     With a critical eye you scanned,         Then set it down,     And said: It is still unripe,         Better wait awhile;     Wait while the skylarks pipe,         Till the corn grows brown.     As you set it down it broke -         Broke, but I did not wince;     I smiled at the speech you spoke,         At your judgement that I heard:     But I have not often smiled         Since then, nor questioned since,     Nor cared for corn-flowers wild,         Nor sung with the singing bird.     I take my heart in my hand,         O my God, O my God,     My broken heart in my hand:         Thou hast seen, judge Thou.     My hope was written on sand,         O my God, O my God:     Now let thy judgement stand -         Yea, judge me now.     This contemned of a man,         This marred one heedless day,     This heart take Thou to scan         Both within and without:     Refine with fire its gold,         Purge thou its dross away -     Yea, hold it in Thy hold,         Whence none can pluck it out.     I take my heart in my hand -         I shall not die, but live -     Before Thy face I stand;         I, for Thou callest such:     All that I have I bring,         All that I am I give,     Smile Thou and I shall sing,         But shall not question much.