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.
