Classic Poem

1. I bless thee, Lord, for sorrows sent, To break my
2. I take thy hand, and fears grow still; Behold thy
dream of human power; For now, my shallow
face, and doubts remove; Who would not yield his
cisterns spent, I find thy founts, and thirst no more.
wavering will To perfect truth and boundless love?

3. That love this restless soul doth teach
The strength of thine eternal calm;
And tune its sad and broken speech
To join, on earth, the angels' psalm.

4. O be it patient in thy hands,
And drawn, through each mysterious hour,
To service of thy pure commands,
The narrow way to love and power.