My God, Till I Received Thy Stroke, How Like A Beast Was I! So Unaccustom'D To The Yoke, So Backward To Comply. With Grief My Just Reproach I Bear, Shame Fills Me At The Thought; How Frequent My Rebellions Were! What Wickedness I Wrought! Thy Merciful Restraint I Scorn'D, And Left The Pleasant Road; Yet Turn Me, And I Shall Be Turn'D, Thou Art The Lord My God. 'Is Ephraim Banish'D From My Thoughts, Or Vile In My Esteem? No,' Saith The Lord, 'With All His Faults, I Still Remember Him. 'Is He A Dear And Pleasant Child? Yes, Dear And Pleasant Still; Though Sin His Foolish Heart Beguiled, And He Withstood My Will. 'My Sharp Rebuke Has Laid Him Low, He Seeks My Face Again; My Pity Kindles At His Woe, He Shall Not Seek In Vain.'