Gathered Gold

Index Page

 

Speak, I pray Thee

Speak, I pray Thee, gentle Jesus!

O, how passing sweet Thy words,

Breathing o’er my troubled spirit

Peace which never earth affords.

 

All the world’s distracting voices,

All the enticing tones of ill,

At Thy accents mild, melodious,

Are subdued, and all is still.

 

Tell my Thou art mine, O Saviour,

Grant me an assurance clear;

Banish all my dark misgivings,

Still my doubting, calm my fear.

 

O, my soul within me yearneth

Now to hear Thy voice divine;

So shall grief be gone for ever,

And despair no more be mine.

 

William Williams