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HE way is dark, my Father! Cloud on cloud
Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud
The thunders roar above me. See, I stand
Like one bewildered! Father, take my hand,

And through the gloom
Lead safely home

Thy child.

The day goes fast, my Father! And my soul
Is drawing darkly down My faithless sight
Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral band,
Encompass me. O Father, take my hand,

And from the night
Lead up to light

Thy child.

The way is long, my Father! And my soul
Longs for the rest and quiet at the goal;


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The path is rough, my Father! Many a thorn
Has pierced me, and my weary feet, all torn
And bleeding, mark the way. Yet Thy command
Bids me press forward. Father, take my hand:

Then, safe and blest
Lead up to rest

Thy child,

The throng is great, my Father! Many a doubt,
And fear, and danger compass me about,
And foes oppress me so. I cannot stand
Or go alone. O Father! take my hand,

And through the throng
Lead safe along

Thy child.

The Cross is heavy, Father! I have borne
It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn
And fainting spirit rise to that blest land
Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand,

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