MY heart is resting, O my God,
   I will give thanks and sing;
My heart is at the secret source
    Of every precious thing.
2  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.
3  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.
4  Now a ‘new song’ is in my mouth
    To long-loved music set:
Glory to Thee for all the grace
    I have not tasted yet!
5  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.
6  My heart is resting on Thy Truth,
    Who hath made all things mine;
That draws my captive will to Thee,
    And makes it one with Thine.
Anna Letitia Waring, 1820-1910