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A BRUISED REED

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International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Aug 21, 1884

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 10, No. 32.

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A BRUISED REED.

By Mrs. M. E. H. Everett

LORD, all thy wondering saints have told Thy faithfulness from years of old; Yea and amen, thy word shall be, Though flame devoureth land and sea. That changeless word my trust I make, “A bruised reed he will not break.”
When tempests sweep the noon-day sky And bow the forests with a cry, Though trembling in the rush I wait, So weak, so lone, so desolate, Sure shelter still this rock doth make, “A bruised reed he will not break.”
When in the midnight gloom I fear The nameless terror prowling near, Out of the night’s immensity, This star of promise shines for me; My refuge in this word I take, “The bruised reed he will not break.”
A bruised reed! a worthless thing, With every light breeze shivering! By earth forgotten or unknown, Yet sheltered by the heavenly throne, His promise all my trust I make— “A bruised reed he will not break.” —Mrs. M. E. H. Everett.