Ut quid Domine
Why standest thou far off O Lord?
How often do I heartfelt say:
Pierce my heart with your loving sword.

The wicked hath said in his heart.
I shall not be moved for I shall never be in adversity.
There is always the secure braggart.
Who never doubts his own brilliant creativity.

He lieth in wait secretly as a lion in his den.
He lieth in wait to catch the poor.
In every guise does trouble dwell maybe even in the peaceful wren.
But most securely in our own heart’s grievous sore.

Our own desires we may never be able to suppress.
But can we not bear one thought for those we unwittingly oppress.