Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

George Willis Cooke, comp. The Poets of Transcendentalism: An Anthology. 1903.

A Song of Trust

John White Chadwick (1840–1904)

O LOVE Divine, of all that is

The sweetest still and best,

Fain would I come and rest to-night

Upon thy sheltering breast.

As tired of sin as any child

Was ever tired of play,

When evening’s hush has folded in

The noises of the day;

When just for very weariness

The little one will creep

Into the arms that have no joy

Like holding him in sleep;

And looking upward to Thy face,

So gentle, sweet, and strong

In all its looks for those who love,

So pitiful of wrong.

I pray Thee turn me not away,

For, sinful though I be,

Thou knowest every thing I need

And all my need of Thee.

And yet the spirit in my heart

Says, Wherefore should I pray

That Thou shouldst seek me with Thy love,

Since Thou dost seek alway?

And dost not even wait until

I urge my steps to Thee;

But in the darkness of my life

Art coming still to me.

I pray not, then, because I would;

I pray because I must;

There is no meaning in my prayer

But thankfulness and trust.

I would not have Thee otherwise

Than what Thou ever art;

Be still Thyself, and then I know

We cannot live apart.

But still Thy love will beckon me,

And still Thy strength will come,

In many ways to bear me up

And bring me to my home.

And Thou wilt hear the thought I mean,

And not the words I say;

Wilt hear the thanks among the words

That only seem to pray;

As if Thou wert not always good,

As if Thy loving care

Could even miss me in the midst

Of this Thy temple fair.

If ever I have doubted Thee,

How can I any more,

So quick to-night my tossing bark

Has reached the happy shore;

And, even while it sighed, my heart

Has sung itself to rest,

O Love Divine, forever near,

Upon Thy sheltering breast!