I am content.
Whatever winds may blow, or foul or fair,
God gives me wings to breast the blast, or ride
On lofty pinions plumed for heavenward flight,
The crystal airs of rarer atmospheres
Above the storm.
I am content.
Whatever tides may run, or ebb or flood,
Christ walks beside me on the surging sea.
The anchor of my hope is cast beneath
The veil of boisterous waves and shifting sands,
In depths of peace.
I am content.
Though seismic throes may rend my earthbound sense,
They only set me free to pierce to heights
Unscaled, and probe to depths unplumbed the Love
Which overlies and underlies, and doth
Encompass me.
