The Quiet Hour (Grimes)

Speak

Lord

in the still­ness

While I wait on Thee;

Hushed my heart to list­en

In ex­pect­an­cy.

Speak

O bless­èd Mas­ter

In this qui­et hour

Let me see Thy face

Lord

Feel Thy touch of pow­er.

For the words Thou speak­est

They are life in­deed;

Living bread from Heav­en

Now my spir­it feed!

All to Thee is yield­ed

I am not my own;

Blissful

glad sur­rend­er

I am Thine alone.

Speak

Thy serv­ant hear­eth!

Be not si­lent

Lord;

Waits my soul up­on Thee

For the quick­en­ing word!

Fill me with the know­ledge

Of Thy glo­ri­ous will;

All Thine own good plea­sure

In my life ful­fill.

Like a wa­tered gar­den

Full of frag­rance rare

Lingering in Thy pre­sence

Let my life ap­pear.