How weary and how worthless this life at times appears!

What days of heavy musings, what hours of bitter tears!

How dark the storm-clouds gather along the wintry skies!

How desolate and cheerless the path before us lies!

And yet these days of dreariness are sent us from above:

They do not come in anger, but in faithfulness and love;

They come to teach us lessons which bright ones could not yield,

And to leave us blest and thankful when their purpose is fulfilled.

They come to draw us nearer to our Father and our Lord,

More earnestly to seek His face, to listen to His word.

And to feel, if now around us a desert land we see,

Without the star of promise, what would its darkness be!

They come to lay us lowly and humbled in the dust,

All self-deception swept away, all creature-hope and trust;

Our helplessness, our vileness, our guiltiness to own,

And flee, for hope and refuge, to Christ, and Christ alone.

They come to break the fetters which here detain us fast,

And force our long reluctant hearts to rise to heaven at last

And brighten every prospect of that eternal home,

Where grief and disappointment and fear can never come.

Then turn not in despondence, poor weary heart, away,

But meekly journey onwards, through the dark and cloudy day;

Even now the bow of promise is above thee painted bright,

And soon a joyful morning shall dissipate the night.

Thy God hath not forgot thee, and, when He sees it best,

Will lead thee into sunshine, will give thee bowers of rest;

And all thy pain and sorrow, when the pilgrimage is o'er,

Shall end in heavenly blessedness, and joys for evermore!