And the furnace of seven-fold heat.
'Tis the only way, believe me,
To keep you close to his feet,
For 'tis always so easy to wander
When our lives are glad and sweet.
Then nestle your hand in your Father's
And sing, if you can, as you go;
Your song may cheer some one behind you
Whose courage is sinking low.
And—well—if your lips do quiver—