How tender all His care,
None like His weak onus know!
How His strong arm can safely bear,
And suited strength bestows
He found me faint and low,
He raised my drooping head;
Poured healing oil in every wound,
My hungry soul He fed.
And now His love cloth keep
A poor and feeble child,
And on His bosom I repose.
Throughout the desert wild.
From place to place He leads,
By His own faithful cloud;
And trustingly I follow Him,
Though darkness may enshroud.
He knows the way to take,
Close in His steps I tread;
And as I hear the Shepherd’s voice,
No threatening danger dread.
But on His love recline,
Who gave Himself for me,
Till in His glory bright I shine
With Him eternally.
E’en suffering now is sweet,
If His deep grace I prove;
And in new sorrows drink new springs
Of everlasting love.
My weakness too is blest,
As on His strength I lean;
And every step is one of praise,
Though in a desert scene.
My tent is often struck,
And many changes come;
But soon the journey will be o’er,
And then—my heavenly home.
My title-Jesus’ blood,
My Guide—His loving hand;
And then farewell to desert scenes,
I’ve reached my Fatherland.
H. A. C.
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