VII.

O thou Almighty Lord of life and death, Thou that hast led me out the wilderness And shown me thy great hills’ pure strength to bless, Guard in my soul, lest still it perisheth! The cross thou gavest still I strive to bear— So light it grows that half, at times, I fear My trust is lost, sign of thy service dear— Dost thou bear all, dear Lord, for me no share? So in thy steps to follow still I seek, The wearing way thy patient feet have pressed, The blood-stained way thy heavy cross hath blessed— Dost thou hold me to suffer aught too weak? E’en when I strive one little thorn to grasp It turns to tender roses in my clasp.