"He that believeth shall not make haste."
MY Father! I was hastening on my way,
And now a hand has stopp'd me. Is it Thine?
Must I my spirit's ardent hopes resign,
To seek my task of love complete to-day?
To labor through the daylight I had planned;
But one short hour, and I had finish'd all;
Now the gray shadows of the evening fall,
The night, when none can work, is nigh at hand.
Was not my thought according to Thy will?
Could hopes so bright be all of earthly guise?
I trusted they were perfect in Thine eyes,
And now Thy answer seems, " Wait, and be still."
'Tis hard to bid my busy labors cease,
But I have promised hardness to endure;
And if Thou bid me linger, I am sure
The chamber that I wait in will be peace.
Perhaps if all the night I lie at rest,
And yield myself in stillness unto Thee,
Thou, in the silent hours, wilt work for me;
And oh, full well I know Thy work is best.
If on the altar I had thought to raise,
Thou wiliest not this sacrifice should lie,
Obedience is most precious in Thine eye,
Submission is Thy sweetest song of praise.
In quietness my soul may grow more strong,
Another day, perhaps, to serve Thee more,
With greater wisdom than I did before,
With greater patience when the hours seem long.
Let me leave all to Thee-Thou knowest best,
Thus praying, all my bitter thoughts grow sweet;
Thus standing still, my eager hurrying feet,
As in a holy temple seem to rest.
I will not look beyond with vain alarm;
The morning may have work, or restful joy.
Only be with me, Lord! my heart employ:
Be Thy pure will my guide, my strength Thy arm.