Lest Thee do then forsake me?
Nay, for I do love Thee so,
I fain would choose a song
Built from my chosen tung,
And though it be but chattering
Of a soul bereft of reasoning,
I know Thou would’st love it as Thine own,
For I do love Thee so!”
This was not given for another, but is her own cry:
I beseech Thee, Lord, for naught!