Lead, kindly Light amid the encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet! I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Should’st lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day; and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will; remember not past years.
So long Thy power has blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on.
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone;
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.
AN UNTIMELY THOUGHT.
BY THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH.
I wonder what day of the week,
I wonder what month of the year—
Will it be midnight, or morning,
And who will bend over my bier?
What a hideous fancy to come
As I wait at the foot of the stair,
While she gives the last touch to her robe
Or sets the white rose in her hair.
As the carriage rolls down the dark street
The little wife laughs and makes cheer—
But. . . I wonder what day of the week,
I wonder what month of the year.
PSALM XIX.
The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handiwork.
Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.