I'VE COME TO THY QUARRY-SITE

I've come to thy quarry-site,
Where a man is made whole:
A place of tears; and saline bite;
Anvil-hammer and seating coal!

Refrain:
Quarry site where flesh is slayed;
Jesu-site where self is stayed
From his dreams and vain conceit,
To a purpose real and meet!

Take my hand, o dear forger:
Lead me to thy quarry-site;
Take thy tools, my dear maker,
Forge me into thy delight!

Am a lump of stone granite,
Shapeless and no fixed image:
For in thy love there's no spite:
Form me into thy image!

Roast me; O burn me 'to a brick,
Strong and hard for thy temple:
Made Tough in thy body mystic:
That nothing can it trample!

Shape me! prune me, my dear Lord,
Fitting me for strict account!
Learning nothing but thy word,
That at last a throne I'll mount.

-Ojo'je