Adversity | Burden | Death | Hope | Poetry | Trial

HE LEADETH ME
In “green pastures”? Not always; sometimes He
Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me
In weary ways, where heavy shadows be.
Out of the sunshine, warm and soft and bright,
Out of the sunshine into darkest night,
I oft would faint with sorrows and affright,
Only for this: I know He holds my hand;
So, whether led in green or desert land,
I trust, although I may not understand./Beside “still waters”? No, not always so;
Ofttimes the heavy tempests ’round me blow,
And o’er my soul the waves and billows go.
But when the storms beat loudest, and I cry
Aloud for help, the Master standeth by,
And whispers to my soul, “Lo, it is I.”
Above the tempest wild I hear Him say:/”Beyond this darkness lies the perfect day;
In every path of thine I lead the way.”/So whether on the hill-tops high and fair