THE SUSTAINING HAND.

THE SUSTAINING HAND.
255.1

The little child win wakes at night.
Affrighted at the somber gloom,
And clamors for a ray of light
To drive the darkness from the room,
To quiet dreamland sweetly goes,
Contented if a hand is near,
Caressingly, because it knows
There is no terror it need fear.

So we, who stumble through the gloom.
In almless manner seekfog light,
Will blindly wander to our doom
If traveling by our own might.
But when in darkened paths we stray
And cry aloud, the Father hears
And reaches out His hand to stay
Our apprehensions and our fears.
-E. A. Brininstool