The sixty miles of canyon walls are steep.
In towers and peaks and battlements they rise.
But up and down them browse the mountain sheep.
The country at the top is sparse and dry.
A half mile down beside the river lies
A pleasant pasture, shade beneath a tree
Where one may rest. The water rushes by.
The walls rise sharply and precipitous,
But young lambs race across them joyously.
They leap from crag to crag and have no fear.
Sometimes we wander in a thirsty land,
Seeking a place of peace to shelter us.
If I will trust in God's protecting care,
I know that Love will meet each right demand
And keep me safe, however steep the way.
I know the Father holds me safe and dear.
I shall be brave and daring, for I do
Rely entirely on the power of God.
