BE still, and murmur not, poor heart,

God shall lead thee to a “desert place,”

And bid thee dwell apart;

If ravens in the wilderness

Did feed the servant of the Lord, will He

For thee, His child, do less?

Nor fear, sad heart, its loneliness,—

 Hath He not said, “I never will forsake

Nor leave thee comfortless?”

Have faith, thy Master may design

To fit thee thus for Kingdom work and bliss,—

And wilt thou then repine?

Be patient, let His will be done;

Be calm, be strong, that He may finish there

The work He hath begun.

“A little while,” He soon will come,

And say to thee, “It is enough, my child,

My faithful one, come home!”

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