THE LOT OF LIFE.
BY DEAN AIFOED. I know not if the dark or bright Shall be my lot; If that wherein my hope delight Be best or not. It may be mine to drag for years Toil's heavy chain; Or day and night my meat be tears On bed of pain. Dear faces may surround my heart, With smiles and glee ; Or I may dwell alone, and mirth Be strange to me.. My barque is; wafted to the strand By breath Divine; And on the helm there rests a Hand Other than mine. One who has known in Btorms to sail, ' j I have on board; _ . Above the raging of the gale ! I hear my Lord. . . I He holds me when the billows smite, I I shall not fail; If sharp, 'tis short; if long, 'tis light; He.tempers all. , Safe to -fee' land, safe to the land: The end is this; ' And then wi^h Him go hand in hand, Far into bliss; -:'•
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Southland Times, Issue 978, 1 July 1868, Page 3
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163THE LOT OF LIFE. Southland Times, Issue 978, 1 July 1868, Page 3
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