I know not what shall befall me,
God hangs a mist o’er my eyes;
And so each step in my onward path,
He makes new scenes to rise,
And every joy He sends me, comes
As a strange and sweet surprise.
I set not a step before me,
As I tread on another year;
But the past is still in God’s keeping—
The future His mercy shall clear,
And what looks dark in the distance,
May brighten as I draw near.
For perhaps the dreaded future
Has less bitter than I think;
The Lord may sweeten the waters,
Before I stoop to drink;
Or, if Marah must be Marah,
He will stand beside the brink.
It may be, he has waiting
For the coming of my feet,
Some joy so strangely sweet,
That my lips shall only tremble
With the thanks they cannot speak.
Oh! restful, blissful ignorance!
‘Tis blessed not to know!
It keeps me so still in those arms
Which will not let me go.
And hushes my soul to rest
On the bosom that loves me so.
So I go on, not knowing,
I would rather walk in the dark with God,
Than walk alone in the light―
I would rather walk with Him by faith
Then walk alone by sight.
My heart shrinks back from trials
That the future may disclose,
Yet I never had a sorrow
But what the dear Lord chose―
So I send the coming tears back
With the whispered words, “He knows.”