When hours had pass with painful cross
I travelled on till I could go no further,
Then at last; in all the pain of sad losses,
I rest serene beneath the tranquil power.
God gave me quietness and assurance
To drink from the stream in the desert
And wash my feet press sore in peace,
That they in grief may walk in the spirit.
And hear his voice mention my name,
Having borne burden of fretted sorrow,
That in crisis I might find the path of again
And with all the gifts of eternity bestow.
In every trouble there is infinite consoling,
Through all the tumults God will be there,
With streams in the desert for healing,
Every hour is filled with his indwelling power.
No adversary along the darken way
Can take the radiant smile from your face,
Intent to steal your faith in that trouble day,
For your soul will be in the rapture of grace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem