AT THE RIVER.
29
With a world of love in his patient eyes
He stretches the wounded hands to aid,
And once more speaks in such sad surprise:
“Oh doubting one, art thou still afraid?
My feet once pressed the cold dark wave,
Unaided I stepped o’er the river’s brink,
And wil’t thou not trust me, its dangers brave?
I will bear thee up and thou can’st not sink.”
Then all fear goes out from my doubting soul
And a wondrous peace steals in instead,
As once more I press to the river cold
And the icy waters no longer dread,
And as boldly I plunge in the chilling tide
The song of the Angels rings sweet and clear—
“Though the river is dark and cold and wide
Thy Saviour is with thee, so be of good cheer.”
