Thine by The Christian

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 28, 1871

Thine.

By The Christian

Little to me it matters Whether my feet are led, If in the burning desert Or the pastures green I'm fed,— Whether the storm or sunshine Be in the path I take; For my hand is in thine, my Father, Thou'lt not thy child forsake.

And it shall not cause me to sorrow, Though the path be steep and rough; I am thine, thine own forever, And that shall be joy enough. Thine is the care, my Father— The work of providing, thine; Only the trust and the pleasure And the calm content are mine.

Neither shall I be anxious For the dear ones whom I love; From thee they are never absent— Thou reachest them from above. And Lord, I know they are dearer To thee than they are to me, So I only ask thee to take them, And do as it pleaseth thee.

But others are only strangers, And know not the perfect peace Of those who beneath thy banner Are finding their sorrow cease. They are away in the darkness, In the gloomy and silent night; O Father, receive them also, And welcome them into the light.

So, then, it will not matter, Whatever the future be; Gladly we take our journey, Leaving the rest to thee. And in darkness, or gloom, or tempest, Still shall the best light shine; And the joy shall come to our spirits; For, Father, we all are thine. —The Christian.