Kept for the Master's Use

by Frances Ridley Havergal

The infinite truth and might of Thy dear name—

‘Our Comforter!’ As gentlest touch will stay

The strong vibrations of a jarring chord,

So lay Thy hand upon his heart, and still

Each overstraining throb, each pulsing pain.

Then, in the stillness, breathe upon the strings,

And let thy holy music overflow

With soothing power his listening, resting soul.

A Song in the Night.

[Written in severe pain, Sunday afternoon, October 8th, 1876, at the Pension Wengen, Alps.]