 | The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith |  |
[Jesus, in the deep, dark night]
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust
in Him.”—Job xiii. 15.
Jesus, in the deep, dark night,
Send Thy light to guide my way:
Thou canst give the blind their sight,
Thou canst turn the night to day:
Yet if dark my path must be,
Let me still hold fast to Thee.
Send Thy light to guide my way:
Thou canst give the blind their sight,
Thou canst turn the night to day:
Yet if dark my path must be,
Let me still hold fast to Thee.
Jesus, in the hour of grief,
Send the Comforter to cheer;
He can give the heart relief,
He can wipe away the tear:
Yet if sorrow be my lot,
Let me be still and murmur not.
Send the Comforter to cheer;
He can give the heart relief,
He can wipe away the tear:
Yet if sorrow be my lot,
Let me be still and murmur not.
Jesus, in the war of life,
Be Thou ever near to save;
Thou canst shield from perils rife,
Thou canst pluck me from the grave.
Yet if I am doomed to death,
Mine be still the fight of Faith.
Be Thou ever near to save;
Thou canst shield from perils rife,
Thou canst pluck me from the grave.
Yet if I am doomed to death,
Mine be still the fight of Faith.
Am I abject thus to lie
At His mercy? surely no:
Did He not in mercy die,
Death for me to overthrow?
And can I doubt the love which He
Witnessed on His cross for me?
At His mercy? surely no:
Did He not in mercy die,
Death for me to overthrow?
And can I doubt the love which He
Witnessed on His cross for me?
'Tis the sun that brings the cloud,
Shadows of the light are born;
Let the clouds and shadows shroud
Life to me in grief forlorn,
Still I know 'twas love that wrought
All the sorrow of my lot.
Shadows of the light are born;
Let the clouds and shadows shroud
Life to me in grief forlorn,
Still I know 'twas love that wrought
All the sorrow of my lot.
| The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith | |