If I could feel my hand, dear Lord, in thine,
And surely know
That I was walking in the light divine
Through weal or woe;
If I could hear thy voice in accents sweet
But plainly say,
To guide my groping, wandering feet,
"This is the way;"
I would so gladly walk therein; but now
I cannot see.
Oh, give me, Lord, the faith to humbly bow
And trust in thee!
There is no _faith_ in seeing. Were we led
Like children here,
And lifted over rock and river-bed,
No care, no fear,
We should be useless in the busy throng;
Life's work undone;
Lord, make us brave and earnest, true and strong,
Till heaven is won.
--Sarah Knowles Bolton.