Thou art the Way, dear Christ, by which we walk!
A thorny way to sense, yet strewn with flowers
For those who falter not, nor turn aside
In search of broader paths and heedless hours.
Thou art the vine, and we the branches are.
And as we closely cling, we learn of thee
To bring forth golden fruits of health and peace,
And find the road to endless harmony.
Thou art the door through which God's children pass,
To dwell in realms of joy and radiant light;
Where good alone is king, and Love is All,
And angel-thoughts dispel the darkling night.
Thou art the Truth, to banish sinful sense,
And light a torch o'er misty dreams forlorn:
So shines a vision clear throughout the dawn,
Our beacon white of hope, our star of morn.
Thou art the Life! Beneath Love's mighty rod
The valley of the shadow disappears;
For death is naught, and sorrow is no more,
As time gives place to heaven's endless years.
So may we know the Way, the Truth, the Life,
The verdant vine, the door that shuts to none,
Till, in God's love we lose the mortal sense
And find immortal man, God's sinless son!
