To hear the elm boughs hiss and sweep,
In summer winds on either hand.
To cling to forest-trees and grass
And this dear world of hill and plain,
For fear, whatever came to pass,
God would not give as good again.
And some may use the gospel so,
That is a pharos unto me,
And guide themselves to hell, although
Their chart should lead them unto Thee.
Lord, shut our eyes or shut our mind,
Or give us love, in case we fall;
'Tis better to go maim and blind
Than not to reach the Lord at all.
[ 38 ]
