O My Lord, Within My Heart,
Pride Will Have No Home.
Every Talent That I Have,
Comes From You Alone.

And Like A Child At Rest,
Close To Its Mother’s Breast,
Safe In Your Arms,
My Soul Is Calmed.

Lord, My Eyes Do Not Look High,
Nor My Thoughts Take Wings,
For I Can Find Treasures In
Or Dinary Things.

And Like A Child At Rest,
Close To Its Mother’s Breast,
Safe In Your Arms,
My Soul Is Calmed.

Great Affairs Are Not For Me,
Deeds Beyond My Scope,
In The Simple Things I Do
I Find Joy And Hope.

And Like A Child At Rest,
Close To Its Mother’s Breast,
Safe In Your Arms,
My Soul Is Calmed.

Categorized in:

Liturgical Hymnal, With Joyful Lips (G),

Tagged in:

, , , , , ,