Haste, Lord, to Help

Haste to me, Lord, when this fool-heart of mine

     Begins to gnaw itself with selfish craving;

     Or, like a foul thing scarcely worth the saving,

     Swoln up with wrath, desireth vengeance fine.

     Haste, Lord, to help, when reason favours wrong;

     Haste when thy soul, the high-born thing divine,

     Is torn by passion’s raving, maniac throng. 
—George MacDonald

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