L. M.
Would that I were more closely bound
To my Beloved, who ever lives;
Would that my soul were always found
Abiding in the peace He gives;
Would, that I might more clearly see
His love an heritage for me
More surely know, more meekly own,
His bounteous grace my strength alone!
And much I wish but I will pray
For wisdom that the lowly find, —
And, O my Savior, every day,
More of Thy meek and quiet mind.
The comfort of a mind at rest
From every care Thou hast not blest,
A heart from all the world set free,
To worship and to wait on Thee.
Ah! my Beloved who wilt not die,
Whose spirit does not change with mine,
Put doubts of my affection by,
And make me free to sing of Thine.
The more Thy goodness I confess,
I shall not surely love Thee less;
The more myself alone I see,
The farther off I feel from Thee.
Thou art my life's restoring rest,
In Thee for safety let me hide, —
And win me for Thy grateful guest
By love that will not be denied.
Try me with Thy refining fire,
Array me in Thy white attire,
Be Wisdom, Righteousness to me,
The River of my pleasures be,
And fill my life with love of Thee.