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The Quiet hour
Speak, Lord, in the stillness While I wait on Thee; Hushed my heart to listen, In expectancy. Speak, O bless�d Master, In this quiet hour, Let me see Thy face, Lord, Feel Thy touch of power. For the words Thou speakest, �They are life� indeed; Living Bread from heaven, Now my spirit feed! All to Thee is yielded, I am not my own; Blissful, glad surrender, I am Thine alone. Fill me with the knowledge Of Thy glorious will; All Thine own good pleasure In my life fulfill. Like �a watered garden� Full of fragrance rare Ling�ring in Thy presence Let my life appear. Words: E. May Grimes (1920)