There is not a trace on the wilderness sands
Where the foot of a saint hath trod;
No marks have they left who are passed on before,
Save the word of a faithful God.
There is not a trace on the wilderness sands,
Save the steps of the Son of God.
My eye must be upwards—afar from the world,
In this desert I find no cheer;
The footsteps of Jesus are under the cloud,
Yet my eye must be fixed up there.
There is not a trace on the wilderness sands,
Save the steps of the Son of God.
Oh, be it “two days, or a month, or a year,”
That the cloud may remain above,
I cannot make haste, for it bids me be still,
And I know that it rests in love.
There is not a trace on the wilderness sands,
Save the steps of the Son of God,
How oft would my zeal, with its fleshy desires
Be at work, when He bids me wait;
My will must be broken—my temper subdued,
While I sit at the Master’s feet.
There is not a trace on the wilderness sands,
Save the steps of the Son of God.
And there did I rest as my eye looked below,
All in silence the cloud might move
My Lord would pass on, and my heart would be sad,
And His power should I fail to prove.
There is not a trace on the wilderness sands,
Save the steps of the Son of God.
Where’er it may go— tho’ the way may be long,
The’ the flesh and the world oppose,
On, onwards I follow—my strength is the Lord,
And He’s mine till my march shall close.
There is not a trace on the wilderness sands,
Save this steps of the Son of God.
Yes, mine on the journey, and mine as I rest,
He is mine in each joy or woe,
His manna shall feed me with food by the way,
And His water in fullness flow,
There is not a trace on the wilderness sands.
Save the steps of the Son of God,
S.O. M.G.O.