Seeker of the Folkstems

Always the worst of me...
That is what you dig up.
Yet, my weakest is my strongest
And my strongest comes from God.

My heart is broken and my soul is threshed.
Thou, Assyrian, rake'th me over the coals
Like Hezekiah's kingdom.

A glimmer of hope,
Only you strive to steal it from me.

O, thou Prince,
Who wishes to dig up from among my bones
Things which are simple;
The things which my heart had poured out.
You dig...
And you find my weakest...
Yet, in them are wise thoughts unveiled.

The sun turns back seven degrees
And the hoary frost of winter is over.
Need you punish me?
For what?
Dig, and you shall find the sins of my folkstems.
Dig hard for them, you shall find me guilty
As all men are.

So, leave me...
Leave me in peace
In Jesus' name.