Rose from Brier

Thou hast not that, My child, but thou hast Me,
And am I not alone enough for thee?
I know it all, know how thy heart was set
Upon this joy which is not given yet.
And well I know how through the wistful days
Thou walkest all the dear familiar ways,
As unregarded as a breath of air,
But there in love and longing, always there.
I know it all; but from thy brier shall blow
A rose for others.
If it were not so I would have told thee.
Come, then, say to Me,
My Lord, my Love,
I am content with Thee.

-Amy Carmichael