Life’s Answer

I know not if the 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 hearth 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 the helm there rests a hand Other than mine. One who has known in storms to sail I have on board: Above the raving of the gale I hear my Lord. He holds me when the billows smite, I shall not fall: If sharp, 'tis short; if long, 'tis light; He tempers all. Safe to the land--safe to the land, The end is this: And then with Him go hand in hand Far into bliss.