Rev. xxi. 5.
Wanderer, rest thy
weary feet;
Shapes
and sounds forgotten now-
Close thine eyes in
stillness sweet,
With
thy God alone art thou.
In
the deeps of silence rest,
Let Him work His high
behest.
Silence!
reasonings hard and keen,
Still--O
longings sad and deep--
Waken to the morn
serene,
Tangled
dreams depart with sleep;
In
the calm eternal day
Night's wild visions past
away.
In the silence of
that dawn
God
shall speak His words of grace,
Light that round
thy waking shone
Is
the radiance of His Face;
Yearning
of His heart to thee,
Fills the deep
immensity.
Gently loosens He
thy hold
Of
the treasured former things--
Loves and joys that
were of old,
Shapes
to which the spirit clings--
And
alone, alone He stands,
Stretching forth beseeching
hands.
Lo, the soul Thy
love has bought,
Through
the ages, Lord, am I,
Knowing nought, and
willing nought,
Thine
alone eternally--
Thine,
the Bride Thy love has won,
Gift of God to Christ His
Son.
In Thy strength my
soul is still
Clay
within the potter's hands,
Moulded by Thy
tender will
Mightier
than all commands;
Shaped
and moved by Thee alone,
Now, and evermore Thine
own.
G. T. S.
