E. H. Grimes

SPEAK, Lord, in the stillness,

While I wait on Thee;

Hushed my heart to listen,

In expectancy.


Speak, O blessed Master,

In this quiet hour;

Let me see Thy face, Lord,

Feel Thy touch of power.


For the words Thou speakest,

They are life indeed;

Living bread from heaven,

Now my spirit feed!


All to Thee is yielded,

I am not my own;

Blissful, glad surrender,

I am Thine alone.


Speak, Thy servant heareth,

Be not silent, Lord;

Waits my soul upon Thee

For the quickening Word.


Fill me with the knowledge

Of Thy glorious will;

All Thine own good pleasure

In Thy child fulfil.


like a watered garden,

Full of fragrance rare,

Lingering in Thy presence,

Let my life appear.


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