My Father! I was hastening on my way,
And now a hand has stopped me. Is it Thine?
Must I my spirit’s ardent hopes resign,
To see my task of love complete today?

To labor through the daylight I had planned;
But one short hour, and I had finished all:
Now the grey shadows of the evening fall,
The night, when none can work, is nigh at hand.

Was not my thought according to Thy will?
Could hopes so bright be all of earthly guise?
I trusted they were perfect in Thine eyes,
And now Thy answer seems—Wait, and be still.

’Tis hard to bid my busy labor cease,
But I have promised hardness to endure;
And if Thou bid me linger, I am sure
The chamber that I wait in will be peace.

Perhaps if all the night I lie at rest,
And yield my­self in still­ness un­to Thee,
Thou, in the si­lent hours, wilt work for me:
And, oh ! full well I know Thy work is best.

If on the altar I had thought to raise
Thou willest not this sacrifice should lie,
Obedience is most precious in Thine eye,
Submission is Thy sweetest song of praise.

In quietness my soul may grow more strong
Another day, perhaps, to serve Thee more,
With greater wisdom than I did before,
With greater patience when the hours seem long.

Let me leave all to Thee—Thou knowest best.
Thus praying, all my bitter thoughts grow sweet;
Thus standing still, my eager hurrying feet,
As in a holy temple, seem to rest.

I will not look beyond with vain alarm;
The morning may have work, or restful joy.
Only be with me, Lord ! My heart employ;
Be Thy pure will my guide, my strength Thy arm.

Jemima E. A. Brown
Lights Through a Lat­tice, 1868