My prayers must meet a brazen heaven
My prayers must meet a brazen heavenAnd fail and scatter all away.Unclean and seeming unforgivenMy prayers I scarcely call to pray.I cannot buoy my heart above;Above I cannot entrance win.I reckon precedents of love,But feel the long success of sin.
My heaven is brass and iron my earth:Yea, iron is mingled with my clay,So harden'd is it in this dearthWhich praying fails to do away.Nor tears, nor tears this clay uncouthCould mould, if any tears there were.A warfare of my lips in truth,Battling with God, is now my prayer.
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