How doth my soul reach thy heavenly throne?
Must it rejoice in this flesh alone?
On knees and face, for I cannot rise;
Once standing in pride, I thought I was wise.
T’was my mistake to believe I was right
With sin, mere arrogance, blinding my sight.
‘Nay,’ says the Spirit, ‘knowledge is mine;
Discernment was not of your design.’
O, for the shame that pierces me through;
In the base of my heart, doth it brew.
Dear Lord, my soul is thine to behold,
So filthy, debased; take it and mould.
O grace! O mercy! That beautiful gift;
Once given, my humble soul it doth lift.
I love the Lord, He hath heard my voice!
His kindness is worth every ounce of rejoice.
How doth my soul reach thy heavenly throne?
Must it rejoice in this flesh alone?
Nay – the angels join in with my overjoyed soul
To give praise to the One who made me whole.
Jésu! Jésu! Giver of life,
Thine be the triumph, honor and might.
Father, my God, be near to me, still;
Direct your servant, make me thy will.
She Writes to Say 
Wonderful just amazing look forward to reading more. I have been reading some of your older stuff and you a knack for the old english. Its a beautiful style thats been mostly forgotten look forward to seeing what else u have
Thanks for reading!