My Heart Is Resting, O My God

My heart is resting, O my God,
I will give thanks and sing;
My heart is at the secret source
Of every precious thing.
Now the frail vessel
Thou hast made No hand but
Thine shall fill;
For the waters of the earth have failed,
And I am thirsty still.

I thirst for springs of heavenly life,
And here all day they rise;
I seek the treasure of Thy love,
And close at hand it lies.
And a new song is in my mouth
To long-loved music set:
Glory to Thee for all the grace
I have not tasted yet;

Glory to Thee for strength withheld,
For want and weakness known;
And the fear that sends me to Thy breast
For what is most my own
I have a heritage of joy
That yet I must not see;
But the hand that bled to make it mine
Is keeping it for me

My heart is resting, O my God,
My heart is in Thy care;
I hear the voice of joy and health
Resounding everywhere.
Thou are my portion, saith my soul,
Ten thousand voices say,
And the music of their glad Amen
Will never die away.

ANNA WARING (1820-1910)

The Man Divine

In the Paradise of glory

Is the Man Divine;

There my heart, O God, is tasting

Fellowship with Thine.

Called to share Thy joy unmeasured,

Now is heaven begun;

I rejoice with Thee, O Father,

In Thy glorious Son.

Where the heart of God is resting,

I have found my rest;

Christ who found me in the desert,

Laid me on His breast.

There in deep unhindered fulness

Doth my joy flow free

On through everlasting ages,

Lord, beholding Thee.

Round me is creation groaning,

Death, and sin, and care;

But there is a rest remaining,

And my Lord is there.

There I find a blessed stillness

In His courts of love;

All below but strife and darkness,

Cloudless peace above.

’Tis a solitary pathway

To that fair retreat

Where in deep and sweet communion

Sit I at His feet.

In that glorious isolation,

Loneliness how blest,

From the windy storm and tempest

Have I found my rest.

Learning from Thy lips for ever

All the Father’s heart,

Thou hast, in that joy eternal,

Chosen me my part.

There, where Jesus, Jesus only,

Fills each heart and tongue,

Where Himself is all the radiance

And Himself the song.

Here, who follows Him the nearest,

Needs must walk alone;

There like many seas the chorus,

Praise surrounds the throne.

Here a dark and silent pathway;

In those courts so fair Countless hosts, yet each beholding

Jesus only, there.

T. P.