My poor and doleful heart

A loafer am I; no thoughts awake my mind.
To lance my drowsy brain, I needs must try.
Ah, sloth is my lot, and yet, my Lord Supreme,
I hope and hope in Thy Sky of Grace to fly.

I shall now kindle my poor and doleful heart
To reach in joy Thy creation's highest height.
No more my ire shall fight with Thee, no more.
My surrender's life dwells far above ego's night.