Anna Laetitia Waring

My heart is resting, O my God,
     I will give thanks and sing;

My heart is resting, O my God,
     I will give thanks and sing;
My heart is at the secret source
     Of every precious thing.
Now the frail vessel Thou hast made
     No hand but Thine shall fill;
For the waters of the earth have failed,
     And I am thirsty still.

I thirst for springs of heavenly life,
     And here all day they rise;
I seek the treasure of thy love,
     And close at hand it lies.
And a new song is in my mouth
     To long-loved music set:
“Glory to Thee for all the grace
     I have not tasted yet;

“Glory to Thee for strength withheld,
     For want and weakness known;
And the fear that sends me to Thy breast
     For what is most my own.”
I have a heritage of joy
     That yet I must not see;
But the hand that bled to make it mine
     Is keeping it for me.

My heart is resting, O my God,
     My heart is in Thy care;
I hear the voice of joy and health
     Resounding everywhere.
“Thou art my portion,” saith my soul,
     Ten thousand voices say,
And the music of their glad Amen
     Will never die away.

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