To shine o’er all the untried way
Appointed for these tender feet
Ere they may walk the golden street;
Whate’er the path Thy love assign,
Hold fast this little hand in Thine.
I dare not say for this young heart
So much of earthly bliss impart;
From thine it caught its earliest thrill,
Each throb but answers to Thy will,
So in Thy tender love I rest—