When faints and fails each wilderness hope, And the lamp of faith burns dim, O! I know where to find the honey drop On the bitter chalice brim. For I see, though veiled from my mortal sight, God's plan is all complete; Though the darkness at present be not light, And the bitter be not sweet. I can wait till the dayspring shall overflow The night of pain and care; For I know there's a blessing for every woe, A promise for every prayer. Yes, I feel that the Hand which is holding me Will ever hold me fast; And the strength of the arms that are folding me Will keep me to the last. FOLLOWING As God leads me will I go, Nor choose my way. Let him choose the joy or woe Of every day; They cannot hurt my soul, Because in his control; I leave to him the whole-- His children may. As God leads me I am still Within his hand; Though his purpose my self-will Doth oft withstand; Yet I wish that none But his will be done Till the end be won That he hath planned. As God leads I am content; He will take care! All things by his will are sent That I must bear; To him I take my fear, My wishes, while I'm here; The way will all seem clear, When I am there! As God leads me it is mine To follow him; Soon all shall wonderfully shine Which now seems dim. Fulfilled be his decree! What he shall choose for me That shall my portion be, Up to the brim! As God leads me so my heart In faith shall rest. No grief nor fear my soul shall part From Jesus' breast. In sweet belief I know What way my life doth go-- Since God permitteth so-- That must be best. --L. Gedicke. "YOUR HEAVENLY FATHER KNOWETH" There are two words of light divine That fall upon this heart of mine, That thrill me in the hour of gain, That still me in the hour of pain: Two words endued with magic power, Sufficient unto any hour-- He knows. As summer breezes, cool and sweet, Bring rest, relief from toil and heat; As showers, needed as they fall, Renew, refresh and comfort all; So to my feverish heart is given This loving message, fresh from heaven: He knows. My fainting heart finds strength in this, My hungry heart here seeks its bliss; Here angry billows never surge, Here death can never sing its dirge; My rising fears, with murmuring fraught, Find sudden calm beneath this thought: He knows. O lullaby for children grown! O nectar sweet for lips that moan! O balm to stricken hearts oppressed! O pillow where worn heads may rest! All joy, all comfort in thee meet, O blessed words, surpassing sweet, He knows. FEAR NOT