‘Master, say on!’

MASTER, speak!  Thy servant heareth,
  Waiting for Thy gracious word,
Longing for Thy voice that cheereth;
   Master!  let it now be heard.
I am listening, Lord, for Thee;
What hast Thou to say to  me?

Master, speak in love and power:
   Crown the mercies of the day,
In this quiet evening hour
   Of the moonrise o’er the bay,
With the music of Thy voice;
Speak!  and bid Thy child rejoice.

Often though my heart is pealing
   Many another voice than Thine,
Many an unwilled echo stealing
   From the walls of this Thy shrine:
Let Thy longed-for accents fall;
Master, speak!  and silence all.

Master, speak!  I do not doubt Thee,
   Though so tearfully I plead;
Saviour, Shepherd!  oh, without Thee
   Life would be a blank indeed!
But I long for fuller light,
Deeper love, and clearer sight.

Resting on the ‘faithful saying,’
   Trusting what Thy gospel saith,
On Thy written promise staying
   All my hope in life and death,
Yet I long for something more
From Thy love’s exhaustless store.

Speak to me by name, O Master,
   Let me know it is to me;
Speak, that I may follow faster,
   With a step more firm and free,
Where the Shepherd leads the flock,
In the shadow of the Rock.

Master, speak!  I kneel before Thee,
   Listening, longing, waiting still;
Oh, how long shall I implore Thee
   This petition to fulfil!
Hast Thou not one word for me?
Must my prayer unanswered be?

Master, speak!  Though least and lowest,
   Let me not unheard depart;
Master, speak!  for oh, Thou knowest
   All the yearning of my heart,
Knowest all its truest need;
Speak!  and make me blest indeed.

Master, speak!  and make me ready,
   When Thy voice is truly heard,
With obedience glad and steady,
   Still to follow every word.
I am listening, Lord, for Thee;
Master, speak, oh, speak to me!

[This is not just a poem, but a prayer from the depths of a bleeding heart.  In the midst of a deep trial, I woke up this morning with these words going through my heart and mind.  This is my prayer today and this is why the life and writings of F.R.H. are so dear to me.  I can identify with Frances.  Can you?  Only the Saviour can meet such needs.  Jesus Christ knows and Jesus understands. . .He can mend a broken heart.]

Frances Ridley Havergal from THE POETICAL WORKS