Let me stand a little closer, your splendour clearly see,
The strength in all your branches, the arms that had carried me.
For in my lonely hour, ’twas to you, my mother, flee,
To hide among your shady leaves, to cast my gaze at sea.
Can you tell the wind to turn its course, to draw the chill from fire,
Or the sun, that burning orb, to quench its sole desire.
Can you calm the restless waters, or the bee, its wings doth tire,
Or probe indeed the mind of He, of whom no Name ranks higher.
Lay up upon me, LORD, the truest treasure find,
Drops of tender mercy, give wisdom to my mind.
With strength, the quiet waters, free, all cares behind,
A peace to last the ages, the taste of nectar, kind.
Over and under, behind and before,
Beneath the heavy shrubbery, above the forest floor.
Sighting o so hard to find, yet signs point evermore,
There among the whispering leaves, the moon, the hidden door.
O wandering wind, come take me, the hills and mountains high,
Alive, now all my senses, the clouds, the birds, and sky.
There above, the homely earth, the land and sea, sail by,
Let find myself, a peaceful place, to birth, to live, to die.
A light to guide my weary feet, my fainting heart’s desire,
Its warmth and ever giving self, o blest, this gift of fire.
With rays that pierce the deepening night, from cold distress, now mire,
And lead me on to greater things, where hope, its flame, inspire.
There beneath your mantle, your scent surrounding me,
Drawing o so gently, to a world, forgotten, flee,
Warming, coaxing, holding, at your breast, now gladly be,
Until the night, its passing, at dawn, my spirit free.