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Love under and over, within and without
Lifting and filling, my white sail taut
My mast bends—though anchored strong
Through meekness it lends Love’s primal song
Humble rudder, Love’s still small voice
Mortals need not shudder, immortals rejoice!
The wind may blow, the earth may quake
My ship lies low in Love’s pure wake
There’s a shout, Land ahoy!
My sail still taut, girded with joy
Ship ready for anchor—sail to be folded and stored
Is destiny met, do I pull for the shore?
Yonder the vale, verdant pasture
Will this wind fill my sail, will my rudder discover?
Will I hear the call—that still, small voice?
Will my mast stand tall, and is there a choice?
Peace, be still
Not my will
With God at the helm, a magnificent source
A spiritual realm, Love sets my course.
