I know not if or dark or bright Shall be my lot; If that wherein my hopes delight Be best or not. It may be mine to drag for years Toil???s heavy chain, Or day and night my meat be tears On bed of pain. Dear faces may surround my health With smiles and glee, Or I may dwell alone, and mirth Be strange to me. My bark is wafted to the strand By breath divine, And on its helm there rests a hand Other than mine. One who was known in storms to sail I have on board; Above the roaring of the gale I hear my Lord. Safe to the land! safe to the land! The end is this, And then with Him go hand in hand, Far into bliss.
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