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God knows—not I—the devious way
Wherein my faltering feet must tread,
Before into the light of day
My steps from out this gloom are lead,
And since my Lord the path doth see,
What matter if ’tis hid from me?
God knows—not I—how sweet accord
Shall grow at length from out this clash
Of earthly discords which have jarred
On soul and sense; I hear the crash,
Yet feel and know that on His ear
Breaks harmony—full, deep and clear.
God knows—not I—why, when I’d fain
Have walked in pastures green and fair,
The path He pointed me hath lain
Through rocky deserts, bleak and bare.
I kindly trust—since ’tis His will—
This way lies safety, that way ill.
His perfect plan I may not grasp,
Yet I can trust Love Infinite,
And with my feeble fingers clasp
The hand which leads me into light.
My soul upon His errand goes—
The end I know not—but God knows.
— June, 1881 —