I know not where the path may lead,
How dark the way that I must tread;
My feet may walk on fragrant mead,
Or midst deep bogs that ’round them spread.
But this I know, whate’er betide,
I need not fear nor walk alone;
I still may have One at my side,
And feel my hand within His own.
I may not have strength of my own,
To do the task before me laid;
Heart shrink to make the fight alone
Against the foe I see arrayed.
But this I know, whate’er the task,
Or foe that seeks my soul’s alarm,
I need not fear; I need but ask
The helpful strength of His strong arm.
I may not know what waits the day,
Nor part the veil that hangs between;
I may not glimpse one golden ray
Upon the further distant scene.
But this I know, if with my best
I played the part I had to play,
’Tis safe to leave to Him the rest,
For His own time, in His own way.