I journey through a desert drear and wild,
Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts beguiled
Of Him on whom I lean, my Strength, my Stay,
I can forget the sorrows of the way.
Thoughts of His love””the root of ev’ry grace
Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling place;
The sunshine of my soul, than day more bright,
And my calm pillow of repose by night.
Thoughts of His sojourn in this vale of tears;
The tale of love unfolded in those years
Of sinless suffering and patient grace,
I love again and yet again to trace.
Thoughts of His glory””on the Cross I gaze,
And there behold its sad yet healing rays;
Beacon of hope which, lifted up on high,
Illumes with heavenly light the tear-dimmed eye.
Thoughts of His coming; for that joyful day
In patient hope I watch, and wait, and pray;
The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flee,
O what a sunrise will that advent be!
- Mary Jane Walker