"...we went through fire and through water: but thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place." Ps 66:12
Dear Father, how dark is the way!
Fierce storm-clouds the heaven o'erspread:
Not even one lingering ray
Of a star on my pathway is shed.
In pity, dear Father, reveal
Thy care mid the tempest so wild:
My hand clasped in thine let me feel,
And lead me thy wandering child.
Dear Father how rough is the way!
All bleeding and torn are my feet:
And foes press around, night and day,
To force me to halt or retreat.
Dear Father, in pity come near;
I am weak, but I know thou art strong;
In thine take my hand, Father, Dear,
And lead me, thy child, safe along.
Dear Father, how long seems the way,
My progress how toilsome and slow;
I"m weary, so weary to-day,
And the pathway seems rougher to grow
I cannot go forward nor stand;
my strength has been put to the test:
I fall ! Father, dear, take my hand.
And lead thy child up to thy rest.
Dear Father, the waters are deep
Through which thou dost call me to go;
And angry the surges that leap
To o'erwhelm and engulf me below
My bark is to frail to outride
The storm in it's fury so wild;
Dear Father, come close to my side,
And rescue thy perishing child.
Dear Father, how heavy the cross
Which daily I bear! and my soul,
Esteeming earth's tresures as dross,
Would peacefully rest at the goal.
I sigh for a home in that land
By pollution of sin undefiled:
Dear Father, in thine take my hand,
And lead safe to heaven thy child.
by A.K Attebury
Review and Herald
March 22, 1892