Prostrate I lay, and looked across
To the eternal shores.

The world was fair, and hope was nigh,
Some men and women true;
And I was strong, and Death and I
Would have a hard ado.

And so I shrank. But sweet and good
The dream came to my aid;
Within the trees my father stood,
I must not be dismayed.

My grief was his, not mine alone;
The waves that burst in fears,
He heard not only with his own,
But heard them with my ears.

My life and death belong to thee,
For I am thine, O God;
Thy hands have made and fashioned me,
'Tis thine to bear the load.

And thou shalt bear it. I will try
To be a peaceful child,
Whom in thy arms right tenderly
Thou carriest through the wild.


3.