He was better to me than all my hopes, He was better than all my fears.
He made me a bridge of my broken works and a rainbow of my tears.
The billows that bounded my seagirt path but carried my Lord on their crest:
When I dwell on the days of my wilderness march, I can lean on Him for the rest.
He emptied my hands of their treasured store and His covenant love revealed.
There was not a wound in my aching heart but the balm of His breath had healed.
O! tender and true was the chastening sore in wisdom that taught and tried,
Till the soul that He sought was trusting in Him and nothing on earth beside.
He guided by paths that I could not see, by ways that I have not known.
The crooked was straight and the rough made plain as I followed the Lord alone.
I praise Him still for the pleasant palms and the water springs by the way,
For the glowing pillar of flame by night and the sheltering cloud by day.
(Dent. 8. 2; Ps. 77. 11)