A Place of Refuge

A Quiet habitation, where my heart
May 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 earth
To 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.

Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit