 | The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal |  |
413
For Elizabeth Clay's Birthday.
‘My presence shall go with thee,
And I will give thee rest!’
A promise sweetly tender,
Soothing the anxious breast.
And I will give thee rest!’
A promise sweetly tender,
Soothing the anxious breast.
He knows the lonely spirit,
And all its hidden woe;
He knows the weary yearnings
No earthly friend can know.
And all its hidden woe;
He knows the weary yearnings
No earthly friend can know.
His presence shall go with thee,
And His upholding hand
Thy orphaned footsteps guiding
All through the stranger's land.
And His upholding hand
Thy orphaned footsteps guiding
All through the stranger's land.
Encompassed by that Presence
Thou wilt not be alone,
And thou may'st safely rest thee
'Neath the shadow of His throne.
Thou wilt not be alone,
And thou may'st safely rest thee
'Neath the shadow of His throne.
When spring-time's emerald glory
Bids hill and valley smile,
And thou once more regainest
The white cliffs of our isle,
Bids hill and valley smile,
And thou once more regainest
The white cliffs of our isle,
Shall I not hear thee whisper,
In accents calmly blest—
‘His presence hath been with me,
And He hath given me rest’?
In accents calmly blest—
‘His presence hath been with me,
And He hath given me rest’?
| The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal | |