Thou sayest, Fit me, fashion me for Thee.

Stretch forth thine empty hands, and be thou still:

O restless soul, thou dost but hinder Me

By valiant purpose and by steadfast will.

Behold the summer flowers beneath the sun,

In stillness his great glory they behold;

And sweetly thus his mighty work is done.

And resting in his gladness they unfold.

So are the sweetness and joy Divine

Thine, O beloved, and the work is mine.”

–Gerhard Tersteegen