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;

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.

I have a heritage of joy,

That yet I must not see;

The hand that bled to make it mine

Is keeping it for me.

There is a certainty of love

That sets my heart at rest;

A calm assurance for today,

That to be poor is best;

A prayer, reposing on his truth,

Who hath made all things mine,

That draws my captive will to him,

And makes it one with thine.

Amen.