THIS world is a wilderness wide;
I have nothing to seek nor to choose;
I've no thought in the waste to abide;
I've naught to regret nor to lose.
The Lord is Himself gone before;
He has marked out the path that I tread;
It's as sure as the love I adore;
I have nothing to fear nor to dread.
There is but that one in the waste,
Which His footsteps have marked as His
own;
And I follow in diligent haste
To the seats where He's put on His crown.
For the path where my Savior is gone
Has led up to His Father and God,
To the place where He's now on the throne;
And His strength shall be mine on the
road.
And with Him shall my rest be on high,
When in holiness bright I sit down,
In the joy of His love ever nigh,
In the peace that His presence shall
crown.
'Tis the treasure I've found in His love
That has made me a pilgrim below;
And 'tis there, when I reach Him above,
As I'm known, all His fullness I'll know.
And, Savior! 'tis Thee from on high
I await till the time Thou shalt come,
To take him Thou hast led by Thine eye
To Thyself in Thy heavenly home.
Till then, 'tis the path Thou hast trod
My delight and my comfort shall be;
I'm content with Thy staff and Thy rod,
Till with Thee all Thy glory I see.