A Place of Refuge

A Quiet habitation, where my heartMay rest, from fretful cares and troubles freed;Where every kindly act becomes a prayer;Where soft humility clothes every deed;Where drooping thought may rise above the earthTo reach the peak of God's own holy hill!'Tis thus He makes me lie in pastures green,And leadeth me beside the waters still.

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit