Mary

Mary chose that good thing, 

I am so poor,

The weight of affliction keeps me on the floor. 

Is it so bad to sit here with you?

Troubles are around me, 

What more can I do. 

I am weak Lord, 

You know my frame. 

The work is before me, 

Strengthen me again. 

For I am nothing without you, 

Only your arm bring me through. 

So here I sit, at your feet, 

While all around me screams defeat. 

But you are the Lord of All.

By your will I rise or fall.

Help me Lord to run my race and give you honour for my disgrace.