Precious thought, my Father knoweth, In His love I rest; For whate'er my Father doeth Must be always best. Well I know the heart that planneth, Nought but good for me; Joy and sorrow interwoven; Love in all I see. Precious thought, my Father knoweth, Careth for His child; Bids me nestle closer to Him When the storm beats wild. Tho' my earthly hopes are shattered, And the tear drops fall, Yet He is Himself my solace, Yea, my Friend, my all. Oh, to trust Him then more fully, Just to simply move In the conscious, calm enjoyment Of the Father's love; Knowing that life's chequered pathway Leadeth to His rest, Satisfied the way He taketh Must be always best. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO DANTE by VITTORIO AMEDEO ALFIERI THE OLD MAN OF VERONA by CLAUDIAN AN ODE IN IMITATION OF ALCAEUS by WILLIAM JONES TO A CHAMELEON by MARIANNE MOORE OUR BIRTH-CORD by KOFI ANYIDOHO ON SENSIBILITY by ROBERT BURNS |