Within the gloom of this dark day,
When nature gropes, and finds no way,
That “still small voice” to faith doth say,
“‘Tis I, be not afraid.”
When billows round our bark appear,
And tempest’s angry voice we hear,
Above it all sounds rich and clear,
“‘Tis I, be not afraid.”
When troubles gather fierce and strong,
And weary ones for respite long,
This fills the heart with joyful song,
“‘Tis I, be not afraid.”
When sorrows and afflictions stand
Around the saint on every hand,
By this, the spark of faith is fann’d,
“‘Tis I, be not afraid.”
In pain and sickness, or in health,
In greatest poverty or wealth,
The power of this sweet word is felt,
“‘Tis I, be not afraid.”
In every circumstance we trace
Thy wisdom, power, and boundless grace,
Which whisper, in this desert place,
“‘Tis I, be not afraid.”
Oh! blessed Lord, we cease to fear,
Our troubles bring Thee still more near,
Where Thy blest voice doth sound more clear,
“‘Tis I, be not afraid.”
March, 1883. G. W. F.