Poems (Kimball)/The Divine Purpose

by Harriet McEwen Kimball

THE DIVINE PURPOSE.

AS springs that feed our lives unseen
And keep their daily pastures green,
All-gracious Lord, Thy mercies flow;
Before we ask Thou dost bestow.

And thus with gifts as well as grace
Thou winnest us to seek Thy Face,
And kneeling low Thy care to own,
And make our dearest wishes known.

No voice of prayer to Thee can rise,
But swift as light Thy Love replies;
Not always what we ask, indeed,
But, O Most Kind! what most we need.

When we beseech the good that might,
Because of self, some sweet hope blight,
Some holy impulse turn astray,
Thy tender purpose answers,

For bread may nourish less than stone,
If eaten thankless or alone;
And many a pure, desired thing
Might prove a snare or hide a sting.

But Thou, O Saviour pitiful,
Who seest us so blind and dull,
Constrainest us with mercies still
To seek alone Thy Holy Will.

Oh, soon or late how sweet to learn
It is that Will for which we yearn,
When yielding to its sway Divine
We have no wish apart from Thine!