THE way is dark, my Father! Cloud on cloud
Is gathering thickly o’er my head, and loud
The thunders roar above me. See, I stand
Like one bewildered! Father, take my hand,
And through the gloom
Lead, safely home,
Thy child!
The day goes fast, my Father! and the night
Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight
Sees ghostly visions: fears, a spectral band,
Encompass me. O Father! take my hand,
And from the night
Lead up to light
Thy child!
The way is long, my Father! And my soul
Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal.
While yet I journey through this weary land,
Keep me from wandering. Father, take my hand;
Quickly and straight
Lead to heaven’s gate
Thy child!
The path is rough, my Father! Many a thorn
Has pierced me; and my weary feet, all torn
And bleeding, mark the way. Yet Thy command
Bids me press forward. Father, take my hand;
Then, safe and blest,
Lead up to rest
Thy child!
The throng is great, my Father! Many a doubt
And fear and danger compass me about,
And foes oppress me sore. I cannot stand
Or go alone. O Father! take my hand,
And through the throng
Lead safe along
Thy child!
The cross is heavy, Father! I have borne
It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn
And fainting spirit rise to that blest land
Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand.
And, reaching down,
Lead to the crown
Thy child!