Tersteegen; J. S. Pigott

L.M.

THOU sweet, beloved will of God,

My anchor ground, my fortress hill,

My spirit’s silent, fair abode,

In Thee I hide me and am still.

2

O Will, that willest good alone,

Lead Thou the way, Thou guidest best:

A little child, I follow on,

And, trusting, lean upon Thy breast.

3

Thy beautiful sweet will, my God,

Holds fast in its sublime embrace

My captive will, a gladsome bird,

Prisoned in such a realm of grace.

4

Within this place of certain good

Love evermore expands her wings,

Or nestling in Thy perfect choice,

Abides content with what it brings.

5

Oh, lightest burden, sweetest yoke;

It lifts, it bears my happy soul,

It giveth wings to this poor heart;

My freedom is Thy grand control.

6

Upon God’s will I lay me down,

As child upon its mother’s breast;

No silken couch, nor softest bed,

Could ever give me such deep rest.

7

Thy wonderful grand will, my God,

With triumph now I make it mine;

And faith shall cry a joyous Yes

To every dear command of Thine.