Long did I toil, and knew no earthly rest,
Far did I rove, and found no certain home;
At last I sought them in His sheltering breast,
Who opes His arms, and bids the weary come:
With Him I found a home, a rest divine,
And since then I am His, and He is mine.
The good I have is from His stores supplied,
The ill is only what He deems the best;
He for my Friend, I-m rich with naught beside,
And poor without Him, though of all possessed:
Changes may come, I take, or I resign,
Content, while I am His, while He is mine.
Whate-er may change, in Him no change is seen,
A glorious Sun that wanes not nor declines;
Above the clouds and storms He walks serene,
And on His people-s inward darkness shines:
All may depart-I fret not, nor repine,
While I my Savior-s am, while He is mine.
While here, alas! I know but half His love,
But half discern Him, and but half adore;
But when I meet Him in the realms above,
I hope to love Him better, praise Him more,
And feel, and tell, amid the choir divine,
How fully I am His, and He is mine.
Long Did I Toil
Henry Francis Lyte
(1)
Poem topics: feel, friend, hope, people, poor, sun, good, long, adore, depart, change, home, divine, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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