In the Shadows by Clarence Santee

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Dec 12, 1916

FromSigns of the Times, December 12, 1916

In the Shadows

By Clarence Santee

BY CLARENCE SANTEE

While God is love, yet in the paths He leads me, The way of sorrow seems dark. I hear His voice, I see His steps before me; But storms beset my bark.

Lord, is it true that lessons yet unlearned Are messengers of light? Is in them found the lamp for which I've yearned To guide me through the night?

This life, so false and fleeting as I see it, Brings naught of joy to me. Its promised fame, its shouts of mirth, still leave it A gilded mockery.

A man of fame, one whom the world applauded, No wish to him denied, Left written on his desk, the words that follow, Then shot himself, and died:

“Life is a masquerade, and well I know it, And well I play my part. I wear a smiling mask drawn o’er my features; But, oh, my heart, my heart!

“Life is a masquerade, and many a heartstring Wails but a dirge of pain. We weep and mourn, with hands pressed on our bosoms, Then turn and smile again.”

'Tis so with multitudes along life's pathway Who lift weak hands in vain. They see no moving cloud, no guiding pillar, Across the trackless plain.

But not for aye these clouds remain unlifted. The morn will break at last. The doubt and darkness soon will burst in sunshine That long their shadows cast.

Then rest, my soul, nor doubt the hand that leads thee. His footprints mark the way. He will not sleep, nor will He fail or leave thee Till breaks eternal day.