p. 372 | RESTING IN JESUS by John M'Carthy

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Apr 16, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 24.

RESTING IN JESUS.

By John M'Carthy

BY JOHN M'CARTHY.

Thou, the covert from the tempest, Hiding place from storm and wind, To Thy shelter now I fly, Knowing Thou art ever nigh; Refuge only there I find From the tempest.

There is sweet rest on Thy bosom, Such as I have never known; There reclining I have rest, Leaning on Thy loving breast, Kept and cherished as Thine own On Thy bosom.

Thou of righteousness the Giver, Canst Thy sanctity impart To my worthless, sinful soul, Thus to purge and make it whole From all dross, my inmost heart, In life's river.

E'en the burning desert dreary Would be heaven if Thou art there; For the fountain of Thy grace Gladsome makes the desert place; For Thy presence e'er doth cheer The most weary.

Resting on Thy firm foundation, Though earthquakes the whole world shock, Still securely I abide, While I hide me in Thy side, Thou, the sheltering, rifted Rock, Sure Foundation.

In Thy hiding place I've nestled, As a bird with injured wing Seeks a nest in which to hide— So I to Thy bleeding side Flee, to cease my wandering, In thee nestled.

Keep me, Jesus, daily, hourly, Let me never go astray Into sterile Lodebar, But be Thou my Guiding Star. Thus shall I through life's short day Be Thine wholly.