LUX BENIGNA by Fannie Bolton

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Feb 11, 1889

LUX BENIGNA.

By Fannie Bolton

BY FANNIE BOLTON.

DARKNESS enshrouded all my path, The sky was one vast vault of gloom, No ray fell down to guide my faith, There seemed no Heaven of light and bloom; My way turned into caverns deep, With sound of rivers full of tears; And heights I could not scale, grew steep; And all the leaves had sound of fears; But, suddenly, I cried for sight, And God replied; I found him Light.

I walked amid the graves. The world Seemed perishing in every path; The clouds were flags of death, half furled Upon a heaven that threatened wrath. Some fearful law inevitable Pierced all men's hearts with awful dooms. On every breeze came funeral knells, And all the earth was full of tombs. I raised my heart with aching strife, I cried to God, and found him Life.

I toiled, oh, how I toiled in pain With heart and spirit! All my strife One weary toil that seemed in vain To understand the end of life. "Why, why," I questioned in my years, "Does evil mar each work I do?" Why must men weep such bitter tears? And is there naught divine and true?" With weary, heavy-laden breast I came to God, and found him Rest.

And yet again, within the mart Where surging thousands swept like waves Of some wild sea, I walked apart, And heard men moan for one that saves; I sighed with utter loneliness, So many, yet so loveless all! For, who had power the soul to bless? Who cared if one should rise or fall? I cried to Heaven, as lone I strove, I cried for God, and found him Love.

Oh! mortal, thinkest to fathom life With naught but thy poor powers of sight? Thinkest to understand earth's strife Without the aid of Heaven's light? To tread the labyrinth's intricacies Alone, and yet escape its loss? To fathom sin's cruel mysteries Without the plummet of the Cross? Look up, blind heart; receive thy sight, And thou shalt see God's plans aright.

Without him, oh, 'tis dark and wild! Horror will fill thine anguished breast, As terror doth a lonely child That's lost upon some hopeless quest. Without him, life has jarring keys That crash discord and notes of hell; With him, great mastering harmonies That into infinite sweetness swell. Without him, death and strife unblest; With him, life, love and heavenly rest.