Trust (Lewis)

When will the boon for which I dai­ly pray

Descend with heal­ing on my trou­bled way

And chase the sha­dows from my dark­ened day?

In God’s good time.

If I am sin­ning in my dai­ly pray­er

If what I ask would prove a curse

a snare

When shall the whis­per come

O soul

be­ware?

In God’s good time.

Till then I bat­tle strong with hope de­layed

And plead with pa­tience for her po­tent aid:

When shall the strife be o’er

the tem­pest stayed?

In God’s good time.

May I be firm to hope

to trust

to wait

Earnest but hum­ble at the heav’n­ly gate

Through which the good I crave may crown my fate.

In God’s good time.

And should it come not

should the light of years

Go out be­neath a flood of blind­ing tears

I’ll bide the dawn which soon or late ap­pears.

In God’s good time.