O I know the Hand that is guiding me
Through the shadow to the light;
And I know that all betiding me
Is meted out aright.
I know that the thorny path I tread
Is ruled with a golden line;
And I know that the darker life's tangled thread
The brighter the rich design.
When faints and fails each wilderness hope,
And the lamp of faith burns dim,
O! I know where to find the honey drop
On the bitter chalice brim.
For I see, though veiled from my mortal sight,
God's plan is all complete;
Though the darkness at present be not light,
And the bitter be not sweet.
I can wait till the dayspring shall overflow
The night of pain and care;
For I know there's a blessing for every woe,
A promise for every prayer.
Yes, I feel that the Hand which is holding me
Will ever hold me fast;
And the strength of the arms that are folding me
Will keep me to the last.