Come! for I need Thy love, More than the flower the dew, or grass the rain; Come like Thy Holy Dove, And let me in Thy sight rejoice to live again. - Jones Very

Wilt Thou not visit me?
The plant beside me feels Thy gentle dew;
And every blade of grass I see,
From Thy deep earth its quickening moisture drew.

I saw on earth another light
Than that which lit my eye
Come forth as from my soul within,
And from a higher sky.

The world doth ever change; there is no peace
Among the shallows of its storm-vexed breast;
With every breath the frothy waves increase,
They toss up mire and dirt, they cannot rest;
I thank Thee that within thy strong-built ark
My soul across the uncertain sea can sail,
And though the night of death be long and dark,
My hopes in Christ shall reach within the veil;
And to the promised haven steady steer,
Whose rest to those who love is ever near.