“A bruised reed shall he not break.” Isa. 42. 3
S. Stennett L.M.
1
How soft the words my Saviour speaks,
How kind the promises he makes!
A bruisèd reed he never breaks,
Nor will he quench the smoking flax.
2
The humble poor he’ll not despise,
Nor on the contrite sinner frown;
His ear is open to their cries,
And quickly sends salvation down.
3
He sees the struggles that prevail
Between the powers of grace and sin,
He kindly listens while they tell
The bitter pangs they feel within.
4
Though pressed with fears on every side,
They know not how the strife may end;
Yet he will soon the cause decide,
And judgment unto victory send.
