O will of God, thou blessèd will! Which, like a balmèd air, The breath of souls about us rolls, Touching us everywhere, Imparting, like a soft caress, Healing, and help, and tenderness,
O will of God, be thou our will! Then, come or joy or pain, Made one with thee it cannot be That we shall wish in vain, And, whether granted or denied, Our hearts shall be all satisfied.
Only a smile, yes, only a smile That a woman o'erburdened with grief Expected from you; 'twould have given relief, For her heart ached sore the while; But weary and cheerless she went away, Because, as it happened, that very day You were "out of touch" with your Lord.
Only a word, yes, only a word, That the Spirit's small voice whispered "Speak"; But the worker passed onward unblessed and weak Whom you were meant to have stirred To courage, devotion, and love anew, Because when the message came to you You were "out of touch" with your Lord.
Only a note, yes, only a note To a friend in a distant land. The Spirit said "Write," but then you had planned Some different work, and you thought It mattered little. You did not know 'Twould have saved a soul from sin and woe; You were "out of touch" with your Lord.
Only a song, yes, only a song That the Spirit said "Sing to-night; Thy voice is thy Master's by purchased right"; But you thought, "'Mid this motley throng I care not to sing of the city of gold"-- And the heart that your words might have reached grew cold; You were "out of touch" with your Lord.
Only a day, yes, only a day! But oh, can you guess, my friend, Where the influence reaches, and where it will end Of the hours that you frittered away? The Master's command is "Abide in me" And fruitless and vain will your service be If "out of touch" with your Lord.
Prayer is Innocence's friend; and willingly flieth incessant 'Twixt the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven.
We may question with wand of science, Explain, decide, and discuss; But only in meditation The Mystery speaks to us.
I walk down the Valley of Silence, Down the dim, voiceless valley alone! And I hear not the fall of a footstep Around me--save God's and my own! And the hush of my heart is as holy As hovers where angels have flown.
Long ago was I weary of voices Whose music my heart could not win; Long ago was I weary of noises That fretted my soul with their din; Long ago was I weary of places Where I met but the human and sin.