More strivings within;
More patience in suff’ring,
More sorrow for sin;
More faith in my Savior,
More sense of his care;
More joy in his service,
More purpose in pray’r.
More gratitude give me,
More trust in the Lord;
More pride in his glory,
More hope in his Word;
More tears for his sorrows,
More pain at his grief:
More meekness in trial,
More praise for relief.
More purity give me,
More strength to o’ercome;
More freedom from earth stains,
More longings for home;
More fit for the kingdom,
More used would I be;
More blessed and holy,
More, Savior, like thee.
P. P. Bliss
Wait, O my soul, thy Maker’s will;Tumultuous passions, all be still;
Nor let a murmuring thought arise;
His ways are just, His counsels wise.
He in the thickest darkness dwells,
Performs His work, the cause conceals;
And though His footsteps are unknown,
Judgment and truth support His throne.
In heaven and earth, in air and seas,
He executes His wise decrees;
And by His saints it stands confessed,
That what He does is ever best.
Then, O my soul, submissive wait,
With reverence bow before His seat:
And midst the terrors of His rod,
Trust in a wise and gracious God.
Rev. Benjamin Beddome
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