If God unfurls His banner o’er our days,
What foe could stand beneath His gentle call?
No titan’s roar, no dark that grips and sways,
Can breach the peace His tender hands let fall.
The winds may whisper through the twilight’s hush,
Yet in their sigh, His guiding star shines clear;
Foes fade like mist beneath the morning’s blush,
Dissolved within His stillness drawing near.
Who fears when cradled in this tranquil beam?
What shade could veil a light so soft and true?
From tranquil earth, a silver stream runs free,
Its gentle flow a grace that falls like dew.
Though chaos murmurs, soon its echoes cease,
With God our calm, we rest in boundless peace.