“A Bruised Reed Shall He Not Break.” Christina Rossetti

I will accept thy will to do and be,
         Thy hatred and intolerance of sin,
Thy will at least to love, that burns within
         And thirsteth after Me:
So will I render fruitful, blessing still
         The germs and small beginnings in thy heart,
         Because thy will cleaves to the better part.--
                 Alas, I cannot will.

Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive
         The inner unseen longings of the soul;
         I guide them turning towards Me; I control
         And charm hearts till they grieve:
If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass,
         Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love;
         For I have power in earth and heaven above.--
                 I cannot wish, alas!

What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet
         I still must strive to win thee and constrain:
         For thee I hung upon the cross in pain,
                 How then can I forget?
If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate,
         Nor choose, nor wish,--resign thyself, be still
         Till I infuse love, hatred, longing, will.--
                 I do not deprecate.