(Psalm 56:8; 107:4-7)
God over all, most blessed now and ever,
Thou tell'st my wand'rings, markets out my life;
And no wild storm, nor blast of pain, shall sever
My soul from Thee amid the billows' strife.
Not as a straw toss'd on the waves of sorrow,
Nor on a desert that hath ne'er a way,
Thou knowest my past, my present, and my morrow,
Thou tell'st my wand'rings here, from day to day.
Of love thou are the largest, truest Giver;
Thy sympathies flow ever full and free;
Thy peace, O God, is like a deep, calm river,
Whose currents bear me to Thy home and Thee.
And if the road that leads me to Thy dwelling
Be called by Thee "A solitary way,"
Thy light shall shine, its darkness all dispelling,
Still more and more until the perfect day.
Not as one desolate I tread life's pathway;
The Servant leads me, journey'ng to Thy Son
The day is nearing when His patient mission,
And all His gracious guiding shall be done.
The moment when He says "It is my Master,"
With veiled heart I speed me on to hear;
With energies arouse, I press on faster,
For in the twilight, He Himself draws near!