I was weary and lost in the seeming night.
Unto my path Thou gavest light.
I laid me down in Thy green field.
"Dear Lord," I said: "I yield. I yield."
Waking, I saw the waters still;
And I bent my head, and I drank my fill;
In quietude perceived the board.
In gratitude was I restored.
In safety I did sit and eat.
Thy substance, Lord, is honey-sweet.
In consecrated strength I go
To seek out fields where I may sow.
Love's rod and staff serve to correct
That I may more of Truth reflect.
Poems
Pastorale
From the September 1960 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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