Just as God leads me I would go; I would not ask to choose my way; Content with what he will bestow, Assured he will not let me stray. So, as he leads, my path I make, And step by step I gladly take-- A child, in him confiding. Just as God leads I am content; I rest me calmly in his hands; That which he has decreed and sent-- That which his will for me commands-- I would that he should all fulfill, That I should do his gracious will In living or in dying. Just as God leads, I all resign; I trust me to my Father's will; When reason's rays deceptive shine, His counsel would I yet fulfill; That which his love ordained as right Before he brought me to the right My all to him resigning. Just as God leads me, I abide In faith, in hope, in suffering true; His strength is ever by my side-- Can aught my hold on him undo? I hold me firm in patience, knowing That God my life is still bestowing-- The best in kindness sending. Just as God leads I onward go, Out amid thorns and briers keen; God does not yet his guidance show-- But in the end it shall be seen. How, by a loving Father's will, Faithful and true, he leads me still. And so my heart is resting. --From the German. SWEET CONTENT O Thou, by long experience tried, Near whom no grief can long abide; My Lord, how full of sweet content I pass my years of banishment! All scenes alike engaging prove To souls impressed with sacred love! Where'er they dwell they dwell in Thee In heaven, in earth, or on the sea. To me remains nor place nor time, My country is in every clime; I can be calm and free from care On any shore, since God is there. While place we seek, or place we shun, The soul finds happiness in none; But with a God to guide our way 'Tis equal joy to go or stay. Could I be cast where Thou art not, That were indeed a dreadful lot; But regions none remote I call, Secure of finding God in all. --Madame Guyon. CONTENT AND RICH My conscience is my crown, Contented thoughts my rest; My heart is happy in itself, My bliss is in my breast. Enough I reckon wealth; A mean, the surest lot; That lies too high for base contempt, Too low for envy's shot. My wishes are but few, All easy to fulfill; I make the limits of my power The bounds unto my will. I feel no care of coin; Well doing is my wealth; My mind to me an empire is, While grace affordeth health. I clip high-climbing thoughts, The wings of swelling pride; Their fall is worst that from the height Of greatest honor slide. Since sails of largest size The storm doth soonest tear, I bear so low and small a sail As freeth me from fear.