Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski

Here you will find the Poem Song VI of poet Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski

Song VI

Our almighty Lord, eternal, unfathomed,
To Thee Cherubin proclaim "Holy, holy, holy!"
To Thee too, Seraph, true love's pure brand; 
A fiery firmament tho marks Thy glory's stead.

And tho Thou art in all, 'tis there my teary eyes 
I lift, and there doth my longing heart sigh; 
For my senses' strengths match not their afflictions,
Like servants of masters, Thy mercies they crave.

And my will, to Thy will no whining slave, 
Like a lowly maid of a lady, awaits Thee 
To fast lend her a hand, and in Thy just 
Compassion, alleve the burden's force.

O compassionate Father, whose fontheads 
Of goodness no weir of sin car divert,
Have mercy on us, have mercy:
Long we overflow in infamies of our wrong!

No more doth the heart pang, it dies forthwith,
As force of ingrates tears our allotment and honor,
As lofty pride casts a downward eye on us,
Not marking that Thine eyes scorn us not.