REST.
BY FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL.
Thou hast made us
for Thyself, and the heart never resteth till it findeth rest in Thee. –St.
Augustine.
I.
Made for Thsyelf, O God
Made for Thy love, Thy service, Thy delight;
Made to show forth Thy wisdom, grace and might;
Made for thy praise, whom veiled arch-angles laud;
O strange and glorious though, that we may be
A joy to thee!
II.
Yet the heart turns away
From this grand destiny of
bliss, and deems
‘Twas made for its poor self, for passing dreams;
Chasing illusions, melting day by day:
Till, for ourselves, we read on this world’s best-
“This is not rest.”
III.
Nor can the vain toil cease,
Till, in the shadowy maze of life, we meet
One who can guide our aching, wayward feet
To find Himself, our Way, our Life, our Peace.
In Him the long unrest is soothed and stilled,
Our hearts are filled.
IV.
O rest, so true, so sweet!
(Would it were shared by all the weary world!)
‘Neath shadowing banner of His love unfurled;
We bend to kiss the Master’s pierced feet;
Then lean our love upon His boundless breast,
And know God’s rest.
