MY HIDING-PLACE by Fannie Bolton

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Oct 21, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 40.

MY HIDING-PLACE.

By Fannie Bolton

BY FANNIE BOLTON.

"Hide me under the shadow of thy wings." Ps. 17:8. "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty." Ps. 91:1. "I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge." Ps. 91:2. "Thou art my hiding-place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance." Ps. 32:7. "For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion; in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me; he shall set me upon a rock." Ps. 27:5. "Thou shalt hide them in the secret of thy presence. . . . Thou shalt keep them secretly in a pavilion." Ps. 31:20.

THE eagle has his nest upon the crag, The bird the tree; The foxes holes, the lambs their sheltered fold, The flowers the lea— For all Thou hast a refuge through, Thy grace; And thou, O Christ, thou art my Hiding-place.

The winds have mounting spaces to the stars, To wander free; The rivers have their courses through the lands, To reach the sea; The ships have harbors in some quiet space; But I, oh! I have thee, my Hiding-place.

The nestling has a downy wing above Its place of rest; The babe smiles to a mother's face of love Upon her breast; And not less confident, I seek thy face And trust thy love, O restful Hiding-place.

Storm-tossed, the vessel struggles to the land, The bird-wings beat; The vessel finds the port, the bird at last Gains its retreat. And all this sheltering, shielding love is thine. Blest be my refuge; thou thyself art mine.

Once came a bird, and beat its wings in fright Against the pane, And a sweet woman stepped into the night 'Neath hail and rain, Opened her arms, and there the bird found rest And refuge sure upon her pitying breast.

But thou, O Love untold! thou cam'st to earth, Thou lovedst so; Opened thy breast to lost humanity And all its woe; Let thy heart break upon Mount Calvary, To make a hiding-place for me, for me.

O Refuge! heart of Jesus! infinite love! I seek thy side. As wind-beat bird, as storm-tossed ship, I come, In thee to hide. Whate'er may meet me in life's rugged race, My shrinking soul in thee has hiding-place.

In joy keep calm; in sorrow, soothe and rest; In trial, pure. O Rock and Refuge let me know thy breast My place secure; Oh, let me find, albeit I weep or sing, That thou art sheltering me beneath thy wing.

Then shall my tears be sweet, my songs be praise, My triumph sure. My living refuge that no storm can reach Thou'lt still endure. And when earth's mist sweeps back before thy face, In heaven I'll praise my eternal Hiding-place.