O'er the hushed harp-strings of the soul
There swept a strain,
Low, sad and sweet, whose music stole
Away all pain.
And woke a white-winged angel throng
Of thoughts, illumed
By faith, and breathed in raptured song
With love perfumed.
And in this unveiled Presence grew
My burden light—
I knew the cross would lead me to
A life of right.
Not from this earthly scene afar,
But nearer Thee.
Father, where thine own children are,
And love to be.
Then, when the troubled dangerous sea
Again I walked,
Christ walked with me, so full, so free,
I wept, Christ talked.
And led me safely to the Rock
Upon life's shore,
'Gainst which the winds and waves may shock,
O! nevermore.
Since then, I trust no broken reed,
Doctrine or clan:
In weal or woe this is my creed—
To work for man!
My prayer some good I humbly do
To thine, for Thee,
Some offering pure of love, whereto—
Thou leadest me.
