His Perfect Will

I do not ask, dear Lord, to see

All things that lie ahead of me,

Nor do I ask to understand

All Thine immortal mind has planned,

To know where I shall lay my head,

From whence shall come my daily bread;

But let me rather know Thy will,

And hear Thy tender, “Please be still.”

I dare not ask that Thou wouldst keep

The waters back that round me creep

And terrify my soul anew–

Just hold my hand while I pass through.

I do not ask that Thou shouldst quench,

All round about, this fiery trench;

Though rising flames may cause alarm,

Thy Word has said they shall not harm.

And if I asked Thee to dispel

These trials that my spirit quell,

Perhaps I’d miss a blessing rare

That I should have encountered there,

A lesson that I needed well,

A chance to lead some soul from hell,

A new expression of Thy grace,

A precious look into Thy face.

And so to Thee who made me whole

I give the keeping of my soul;

Thy riches and Thy grace are free,

Perfect that which concerneth me.