MY REST

I would not cherish a wish or thought

Displeasing, Lord, to Thee;

Thy will is good, and with wisdom fraught,

And that suffices me.

I cannot alter a plan of Thine,

And would not if I could;

I acquiesce in the will divine,

And find my highest good.

At times my vessel drifts near the shore,

And the beacon lights expire,

The surf-capped waves swell more and more,

And threaten with ruin dire;

But only the surface sea is rough;

The ocean's depths are calm,

And a star affords me light enough,

The Star of Bethlehem.

And by its light I discern the sand

And rocks along the coast,

And turn away toward a fairer land,

And standing at my post,

I guide my bark thro’ the tempest wild,

Borne on by wind and tide,

Till God receives His weak, erring child,

And shelters near His side.

“Lo, I come, O Lord, to do Thy will!”

Shines from my star divine,

And my heart cries out, “In me fulfill

Also, Thy wise design.”

I would not alter a plan of thine

If I the power possessed;

My will is lost in the will divine,

‘ Tis here I find my rest.