My Rest

I would not cherish a wish or thought     Displeasing, Lord, to Thee;     Thy will is good, and with wisdom fraught,     And that suffices me.     I cannot alter a plan of Thine,     And would not if I could;     I acquiesce in the will divine,     And find my highest good.     At times my vessel drifts near the shore,     And the beacon lights expire,     The surf-capped waves swell more and more,     And threaten with ruin dire;     But only the surface sea is rough;     The ocean's depths are calm,     And a star affords me light enough,     The Star of Bethlehem.     And by its light I discern the sand     And rocks along the coast,     And turn away toward a fairer land,     And standing at my post,     I guide my bark thro' the tempest wild,     Borne on by wind and tide,     Till God receives His weak, erring child,     And shelters near His side.     "Lo, I come, O Lord, to do Thy will!"     Shines from my star divine,     And my heart cries out, "In me fulfill     Also, Thy wise design."     I would not alter a plan of thine     If I the power possessed;     My will is lost in the will divine,     'Tis here I find my rest.