The Contrite Heart

The Lord will happiness divine

   On contrite hearts bestow:

Then tell me, gracious God, is mine

   A contrite heart, or no?

I hear, but seem to hear in vain,                                                     

   Insensible as steel;

If aught is felt, ’tis only pain,

   To find I cannot feel.

I sometimes think myself inclin’d

   To love thee, if I could;                                                            

But often feel another mind,

   Averse to all that’s good.

My best desires are faint and few,

   I fain would strive for more;

But when I cry, “My strength renew”                                            

   Seem weaker than before.

O make this heart rejoice or ache;

   Decide this doubt for me;

And if it be not broken, break,

         And heal it if it be. 

Text: The History of Jenny Hickling: An Authentic Narrative (New York: American Tract Society, [c. 1825]; also Timothy Whelan, ed., Nonconformist Women Writers, 1720-1840, 8 vols. (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2011), vol. 7, vol. 7, pp. 325-26.