The Voice of God’s Creation Found Me

The voice of God’s cre­ation found me

Perplexed midst hope and fear

For though His sun­shine flashed around me

His storms at times drew near:

And I said—

Oh! that I knew where He abid­eth!

For doubts beset our lot

And lo! His glo­ri­ous face He hid­eth

And men per­ceive it not!

The voice of God’s pro­tect­ion told me

He lov­eth all He made;

I seemed to feel His arms en­fold me

And yet was half afraid:

And I said—

Oh! that I knew where I might find Him!

His eye would guide me right:

He leav­eth count­less tracks behind Him

Yet pass­eth out of sight.

The voice of con­science sound­ed near­er

It stirred my in­most breast;

But though its tones were firm­er

clear­er

’Twas not the voice of rest:

And I said—

Oh! that I knew if He for­giv­eth!

My soul is faint with­in

Because in griev­ous fear it liv­eth

Of wag­es due to sin.

It was the voice of re­ve­la­tion

That met my ut­most need;

The won­drous mes­sage of sal­va­tion

Was joy and peace in­deed:

And I said—

Oh! how I love the sac­red pages

From which such tid­ings flow

As mon­archs

pa­tri­archs

po­ets

sag­es

Have longed in vain to know!

For now is life a lu­cid sto­ry

And death a rest in Him

And all is bathed in light and glo­ry

That once was dark or dim:

And I said—

O Thou who dost my soul de­liv­er

And all its hopes up­lift;

Give me a tongue praise the Giv­er

A heart to prize the gift.