O Lord, my heart is not with pride inflamed,
Nor haughty eyes my humble soul aspire.
To lofty things I’ve never laid my claim,
Too great for me, beyond my thought’s desire.
My soul is stilled, like child at mother’s side,
Content to rest, no restless want I know.
O Israel, in God let hope abide,
From now and ever, trust His love to grow.
imaginate.pro 