Poem from Streams in the Desert
“‘The road is too rough,” I said;
‘It is uphill all the way;
No flowers, but thorns instead;
And the skies over head are grey.’
But One took my hand at the entrance dim,
And sweet is the road that I walk with Him.‘The cross is too great,’ I cried–
‘More than the back can bear,
So rough and heavy and wide,
And nobody by to care.’
And One stooped softly and touched my hand;
‘I know. I care. And I understand.’“Then why do we fret and sigh;
Cross-bearers all we go:
But the road ends by-and-by
In the dearest place we know,
And every step in the journey we
May take in the Lord’s own company.”
