He Leadeth Me

In pastures green? Not always: sometimes He

Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me

In weary ways, where heavy shadows be.

Out of the sunshine into darkest night;

I oft would faint with terror and with fright,

Only for this—I know He holds my hand;

So, whether in the green or desert land,

I trust, although I may not understand.

And by still waters? No, not always so:

Oftimes the heavy tempests ’round me blow,

And o’er my soul the waves and billows go.

But when the storm beats loudest, and I cry

Aloud for help, the Master standeth by,

And whispers to my soul. “Lo, it is I!”

Above the tempest wild I hear Him say,

“Beyond this darkness lies the perfect day.

In every path of thine I lead the way.

So, whether on the hill-tops, high and fair,

I dwell, or in the sunless valleys, where

The shadows lie—what matter? He is there.

And more than this, where’er the pathway lead,

He gives to me no helpless, broken reed,

But His own hand, sufficient for my need.

So, where He leads me I can safely go;

And in the blest hereafter I shall know,

Why, in His wisdom, He hath led me so.