Crippled

WHY hast Thou bound my feet,Then bade me toil ceaselessly after Thee?How should a thing so broken, incomplete—Ah, how should I, Lord! plant these faltering feetWhere shifting sands of Earth so baffle me?

Have I not set thy limits? Who should know,Better than I, what sloughs I lead thee through?Mine is the power to hinder—and make free:Walk thou with me!