When Forms from the Dark round me creep,
And whisper ’twere sweet to journey no more,
But lay down the burden and sleep.
(Look onward and up, O Heart of my Heart,
Where the road strikes the skies afar!
To cheer you, and guide, thro’ your darkest hour,
Behold yon beckoning Star!)
I set my face to the grey wild wastes,
I bend my back to the load—
Dear God be kind with the heart-sick child