Classic Poem

I Bless Thee, Lord, for Sorrows Sent

1. I bless thee, Lord, for sorrows sent, To break my
2. I take thy hand, and fears grow still; Behold thy
dream of human power; For now, my shallow
face, and doubts remove; Who would not yield his
cisterns spent, I find thy founts, and thirst no more.
wavering will To perfect truth and boundless love?

3. That love this restless soul doth teach
The strength of thine eternal calm;
And tune its sad and broken speech
To join, on earth, the angels' psalm.

4. O be it patient in thy hands,
And drawn, through each mysterious hour,
To service of thy pure commands,
The narrow way to love and power.Englishlove poemlove poemslove poems for herlove poetrypoems about loveromantic poems