Shall I not take the hand of Him who knows
Whither He goes,
Tread the far silence of the desert drear,
And trust His care
Whose love through blackest night still leads me on,
Nearer to dawn?
Shall I not choose from all within my heart
The better part,
Knowing that only things that do not die
Can satisfy?
Shall I not lay my head upon His breast,
And in that rest
Taste the long promise of the tired years,
And lose my tears?
Poems
[Written for the Journal]
TRUST
From the January 1927 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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