I would be quiet, Lord,
Nor tease, nor fret;
Not one small need of mine
Wilt Thou forget.
I am not wise to know
What most I need;
I dare not cry too loud
Lest Thou shouldst heed:
Lest Thou at length shouldst say,
“Child, have thy will;
As thou hast chosen, lo!
Thy cup I fill!”
What I most crave, perchance
Thou wilt withhold,
As we from hands unmeet
Keep pearls, or gold;
As we, when childish hands
Would play with fire,
Withhold the burning goal
Of their desire.
Yet choose Thou for me—Thou
Who knowest best;
This one short prayer of mine
Holds all the rest!