Your ShelfYour Projects

MY PRAYER

10%

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Apr 4, 1878

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 51, No. 14.

Read the full edition

MY PRAYER.

By Mrs. T. W. H. Ames

“Jesus, lover of my soul,” Then all others far more dear! Faithful, though I faithless be, Ever nigh, my heart to cheer. Earthly friends forsake and slight; Love is oftimes turned to hate; But the soul that Jesus woos Never can be desolate.
“Let me to thy bosom fly,” Lover faithful, Lover true; For the woes of life oppress, And the cup is held anew To my lips,—a bitter draught,— Yet its dregs my soul must taste. Blessed Jesus, quick to thee Let my weary spirit haste!
“While the nearer waters roll” Close to where my feet are led, When the spray is o’er me dashed, And the waters cold I tread, With thy presence near to guide, Naught can harm my trusting soul; True to me, what’er betide, As the needle to the pole.
“While the tempest still is high,” Save me from its wasting power; Human aid cannot avail In this agonizing hour: Thou alone canst whisper, “Peace!” All its wrath to thee is naught; Still the tempest with that word Which with heavenly calm is fraught.
“Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,” In thine arms, outstretched to me! Safety, peace, and rest are there, Mine to share eternally. Foes surround me with their darts, Gladly would they pierce and kill; But to thee, blest Lover, Friend, I am clinging, clinging still.
“Till the storm of life is past,” And its fury ne’er shall cease Till my soul is anchored fast In the port of lasting peace. Safe from ill I cannot be While a pilgrim here I roam; Only on the blessed shore Shall I find a blessed home.
“Safe into thy haven guide,” Jesus, now my soul would sing; Every other wish aside Gladly, joyfully would fling. This of every wish the best; Safe from peril, shipwreck, loss; Every doubt and fear o’erthrown, Clinging to thy saving cross!
“O, receive my soul at last!” Glorious end of care and strife, Endless rest for weary feet In the land of new-born life! O, to be received by thee. Jesus, Lover, Saviour, Friend! This my bliss in Heaven shall be, Without measure, without end!
—Mrs. T. W. H. Ames.