I bless thee, Lord, for sorrows sent
To break my dream of human power;
For now, my shallow cistern spent,
I find thy founts, and thirst no more.
I take Thy hand, and fears grow still;
Behold thy face, and doubts remove;
Who would not yield his wavering will
To perfect Truth and boundless Love?
That Love this restless soul doth teach
The strength of thine eternal calm;
And tune its sad but broken speech
To join on earth the angel's psalm.
Oh, be it patient in thy hands,
And drawn, through each mysterious hour,
To service of thy pure commands,
The narrow way of Love and Power.
--Samuel Johnson.