NOT KNOWING.

KNOW not what shall befall me,
God hangs a mist o'er my eyes;
And so, each step in my onward path,
He makes new scenes to rise,

And every joy He sends me, comes
As a strange and sweet surprise.

I see not a step before me,

As I tread on another year:

But the Past is still in God's keeping-
The Future His mercy shall clear,
And what looks dark in the distance,
May brighten as I draw near.

For perhaps the dreaded Future
Has less bitter than I think;
The Lord may sweeten the waters,
Before I stoop to drink :

Or, if Marah must be Marah,

He will stand beside the brink.

It may be He has waiting,

For the coming of my feet,

Some gift of such rare blessedness,

Some joy so strangely sweet,

That my lips shall only tremble

With the thanks they cannot speak.

Oh! restful, blissful ignorance!
'Tis blessed not to know!

It keeps me so still in those arms
Which will not let me go,

And hushes my soul to rest

On the bosom that loves me so.

So I go on, not knowing

I would not if I might!

I would rather walk in the dark with God,
Than walk alone in the light-

I would rather walk with Him by faith
Than walk alone by sight.

My heart shrinks back from trials
That the Future may disclose,

Yet I never had a sorrow

But what the dear Lord chose:
So I send the coming tears back

With the whispered words.' He knows 1

Stinchcombe parish magazine [afterw.] The parish magazine for ...

Cam Glouc, Berkeley Glouc, Stinchcombe