We all, along life's dusty road,Are bearing many a needless load;We bend beneath its weary weight,And think our burdens far too great,So prone are we, forsooth, to borrowUnreal troubles from to-morrow,—Naming some shadowy semblance, Sorrow.
Too oft, we climb the distant hillsTo catch a glimpse of coming ills;Peering through mist and cloud, to seeIf shadows in our path may be.Still, God is near—our guiding star.His helping hands reach out so far:He knows our need, where'er we are.
Life's duties we can never choose.Our burdens we must not refuse;Yet, never let us add to theseA crowd of phantom miseries;Nor grieve the loss of friends so dear.Are they not with us everywhere?We touch the shining robes they wear.
I know that sorrow comes to all,And shrouds us in her sombre pall;That every heart sometime must seeIts garden of Gethsemane,—"Must kneel alone in anguish there,And battle with some fierce despair;"Yet God is with us, even there.
Darkness and clouds around His faceCannot obscure its wondrous grace;Nor does He ever fail to sendThe gracious Comforter and Friend.Then let us journey on, through faith,Beyond the mystery of death,Which now no sting or terror hath.
