Lyrics by Albert B. Smith
New tune by Seacow Wheat
I know who holds the future
And I know who holds my hand
With God things don’t just happen
Ev’rything by him is planned
So as I face tomorrow
With its problems large and small
I’ll trust the God of miracles
Give to Him my all
Oh, speak to me, my bless-ed Lord;
A-mid life’s lust-y hurry-ing tread;
Calm thou my fears and quak-ing heart,
Un-til my soul with thine is wed.
Oh, speak to me at ear-ly morn,
When low I bend the knee in prayer
To seek thy ho-ly spirits’ cheer,
E-ter-nal joys with thee to share. (Refrain)
Refrain:
Oh, speak to me in ev-ery hour,
With some sweet mess-age from above.
Oh, let me hear thee ev-er speak
Of God’s own glorious, won-drous love.
Oh, speak to me at twi-light’s eve,
In gent-le whisp-ers soft and low;
When I am wear-y, faint and weak,
Then teach me thy sweet rest to know,
Oh, speak to me my bles-sed Lord,
When temp-ted, tired and very sore
En-fold me in thy lov-ing arms,
And hide me there for ev-er-more. (Refrain)
Oh, speak to me, my bless-ed Lord,
That I may tell in ac-cents sweet,
The sto-ry of thy gra-cious love,
‘Till all on earth its song re-peat,
Oh, speak to me when an-gels come
To bear my soul to realms of light,
That I may look be-yond earth’s night,
To Bethl’hem’s star for-ev-er bright. (Refrain)