Hymns of Ter Steegen

On my recent trip I received a gift from the friend I stayed with—though usually the guest brings a gift!—a wonderful book of poems. I am not a scholar or a poet; not widely-read or consider myself a great discerner of fine literature. But in my humble opinion—these are good! They are of the heart. Here is one I picked for today:

The Home

Though who givest of Thy gladness
Till the cup runs o’er
Cup whereof the pilgrim weary
Drinks to thirst no more

Not a-nigh me, but within me
Is Thy joy divine;
Thou, or Lord, has made Thy dwelling
In this heart of mine.

Need I that a law should bind me
Captive unto Thee?
Captive is my heart, rejoicing
Never to be free.

Ever with me, glorious, awful,
Tender, passing sweet,
One upon whose heart I rest me,
Worship at His Feet.

With me, wheresoe’er I wander,
That great Presence goes,
That unutterable gladness,
Undisturbed repose.

Everywhere the blessed stillness
Of His Holy Place—
Stillness of the love the worships
Dumb before His Face.

To Thy house, O God my Father,
Thy lost child is come;
Led by wandering lights no longer,
I have found my home.

Over moor and fen I tracked them
Through the midnight blast,
But to find the Light eternal
In my heart at last.