Father, Take My Hand by HENRY N. COBB

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jan 21, 1915

“Father, Take My Hand”

By HENRY N. COBB

HENRY N. COBB

The way is dark, my Father! Cloud on cloud Is gathering thickly o’er my head, and loud The thunders roar above me. See! I stand Like one bewildered. Father, take my hand, And through the gloom Lead safely home Thy child.

The day goes fast, my Father! and the night Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral band, Encompass me. O Father! take my hand, And from the night Lead up to light Thy child.

The way is long, my Father! and my soul Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal; Yet while I journey through this weary land, Keep me from wandering. Father, take my hand; Quickly and straight Lead to heaven’s gate Thy child.

The path is rough, my Father! Many a thorn Has pierced me; and my weary feet, all torn And bleeding, mark the way. Yet thy command Bids me press forward. Father, take my hand; Then safe and blest, Lead up to rest Thy child.

The throng is great, my Father! Many a doubt And fear and danger compass me about And foes oppress me sore. I cannot stand Nor go alone. O Father! take my hand, And through the throng Lead safe along Thy child.

The cross is heavy, Father! I have borne It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn And fainting spirit rise to that blest land Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand, And reaching down, Lead to the crown Thy child.

The Gracious Answer

The way is dark, my child! but leads to light. I would not always have thee walk by sight. My dealings now thou canst not understand. I meant it so; but I will take thy hand, And through the gloom Lead safely home My child.

The day goes fast, my child! But is the night Darker to me than day? In me is light. Keep close to me, and every spectral band Of fears shall vanish. I will take thy hand, And through the night Lead up to light My child.

The way is long, my child! But it shall be Not one step longer than is best for thee; And thou shalt know, at last, when thou shalt stand Safe at the goal, how I did take thy hand, And quick and straight Lead to heaven’s gate My child.

The path is rough, my child! But O, how sweet Will be the rest, for weary pilgrims meet, When thou shalt reach the borders of that land To which I lead thee, as I take thy hand, And safe and blest With me shall rest, My child.

The throng is great, my child! But at thy side Thy Father walks. Then be not terrified; For I am with thee, will thy foes command To let thee freely pass, will take thy hand, And through the throng Lead safe along My child.

The cross is heavy, child! Yet there was One Who bore a heavier for thee — my Son, My well-beloved. For him bear thine; And stand With him at last; and, from thy Father’s hand, Thy cross laid down, Receive a crown, My child.

— Selected.