I say to thee, do thou repeat, To the first man thou mayest meet In lane, highway, or open street; That he and we, and all men move Under a canopy of love, As broad as the blue sky above; That doubt and trouble, fear and pain And anguish, all are shadows vain; That death itself shall not remain; That weary deserts we may tread, A dreary labyrinth may thread, Through dark ways underground be led; Yet, if we will our Guide obey, The dreariest path, the darkest way, Shall issue out in heavenly day. And one thing further make him know— That, to believe these things are so, This firm faith never to forego, Despite of all which seems at strife With blessing, all with curses rife— That this is blessing, this is life.
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