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::R5762 : page 267::

“YET WILL I REJOICE IN THE LORD!”

Though the fig-tree shall not blossom,
Though the olive’s labour fail,
Though a murrain, sore and grievous,
Smite the herd on hill and dale,—
Yet my soul shall bless and praise Him,
And my faith shall still prevail!

Though the earth be filled with violence,
And the Dove of Peace hath fled,
While the land and sea are groaning
‘Neath the burden of their dead,—
Yet, amid the awful tumult,
I rejoice and lift my head!

Though the vision seem to tarry,
And the waiting time prolong,
Though my faith be strangely tested
In the conflict fierce and strong,
Yet His Grace shall be sufficient,
And the burden of my song!

Though He slay me, I will trust Him,
Though my very heart He break,
For I know with loving wisdom
He hath planned the way I take.—
Thus my dying breath shall bless Him,
And I’ll praise Him when I wake!

—G. W. SEIBERT.

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— September 1, 1915 —