A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
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Trust in God.
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 | A memorial volume of sacred poetry |  |
Trust in God.
O let my trembling soul be still,
While darkness veils this mortal eye,
And wait Thy wise, Thy holy will,
Wrapt yet in fears and mystery;
I cannot, Lord! Thy purpose see;
Yet all is well—since ruled by Thee.
While darkness veils this mortal eye,
And wait Thy wise, Thy holy will,
Wrapt yet in fears and mystery;
I cannot, Lord! Thy purpose see;
Yet all is well—since ruled by Thee.
When, mounted on Thy clouded car,
Thou send'st Thy darker spirits down,
I can discern Thy light afar,
Thy light, sweet beaming through Thy frown;
And should I faint a moment—then
I think of Thee,—and smile again.
Thou send'st Thy darker spirits down,
I can discern Thy light afar,
Thy light, sweet beaming through Thy frown;
And should I faint a moment—then
I think of Thee,—and smile again.
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So, trusting in Thy love, I tread
The narrow path of duty on;
What though some cherished joys are fled?
What though some flattering dreams are gone?
Yet purer, brighter joys remain;
Why should my spirit, then, complain?
The narrow path of duty on;
What though some cherished joys are fled?
What though some flattering dreams are gone?
Yet purer, brighter joys remain;
Why should my spirit, then, complain?
| A memorial volume of sacred poetry | |