I do not ask Thee, Lord, for outward sign,
   For portents in the earth of flaming sky;
It is enough to know that Thou art mine,
   And not far off, but intimately nigh.

No burning bush I need to speak Thy name,
   Or call me forward to the newer task;
Give me a burning heart, with love aflame,
  Which sees Thee everywhere, is all I ask.

No pillar-cloud I seek to mark my way
   Through all the windings of the trackless years;
Thou art my Guide, by night as well as day,
   To choose my path, and hush my foolish fears.

I do not look for fiery cloven tongues,
   To tell for me the pentecostal hour;
The Father’s promise for all time belongs
   To him who seeks the Spirit’s quickening power.

I do not ask for voices from the sky;
   The thunder-peal I might not understand;
But let me hear Thy whisper, “It is I!
   Fear not the darkness, child, but take My hand!”

What can I ask but Thine own Self, dear Lord?
   Omniscience and omnipotence are Thine.
Let but my will with Thy sweet will accord,
   And all thou hast, and all Thou art is mine!

-Henry Burton