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CXCVI.
Father of Love, our Guide and Friend,
Oh lead us gently on, Until life's trial-time shall end,
And heavenly peace be won ! We know not what the path may be
As yet by us untrod; But we can trust our all to Thee,
Our Father and our God !
If call'd, like Abraham's child, to climb
The hill of sacrifice, Some angel may be there in time;
Deliverance shall arise: Or, if some darker lot be good,
Oh, teach us to endure The sorrow, pain, or solitude,
That make the spirit pure !
Christ by no flowery pathway came;
And we, His followers here, Must do Thy will and praise Thy Name,
In hope, and love, and fear. And, till in Heaven we sinless bow,
And faultless anthems raise, O Father, Son, and Spirit, now
Accept our feeble praise !
William Josiah Irons. 1853. |
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