Through rocky deserts, bleak and bare.
I blindly trust—since 'tis his will—
This way lies safety, that way ill.
He knoweth, too, despite my will
I'm weak when I should be most strong.
And after earnest wrestling still
I see the right yet do the wrong.
Is it that I may learn at length
Not mine, but his, the saving strength?
His perfect plan I may not grasp,