There are days so dark that I seek in vain
For the face of my Friend divine
But though darkness hide, He is there to guide
By the touch of His hand on mine
O the touch of His hand on mine
O the touch of His hand on mine
There is grace and power, in the trying hour
In the touch of His hand on mine
There are times, when tired of the toilsome road
That for ways of the world I pine
But He draws me back to the upward track
By the touch of His hand on mine
| |
When the way is dim, and I cannot see
Through the mist of His wise design
How my glad heart yearns and my faith returns
By the touch of His hand on mine
In the last sad hour, as I stand alone
Where the powers of death combine
While the dark waves roll He will guide my soul
By the touch of His hand on mine
|
