My eyes don’t see; my ears don’t hear;
My mind does not perceive you near.
Instead with lowly fare and bland
I stuff my guts and dull my hand.
With look, with touch, with taste, with thought,
I cheapen the glory which You bought
On my behalf with pain and blood,
Which should all Earthly “joys” out-flood.
The World’s delights, though seeming bright
Are dull and dun when viewed aright.
Replace my eyes; renew my ears;
My senses cleanse with righteous tears,
That once those tears are done and dry
I might in faith perceive You nigh,
And ever more Your Glory see,
And thus more like Your Son I’ll be.