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My Rest
By Joseph Horatio Chant
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.
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