I’m standing, Lord;
There is a mist that blinds my sight.
Steep jagged rocks, front, left and right,
Lower, dim, gigantic, in the night.
Where is the way?
I’m standing, Lord;
The black rock hems me in behind.
Above my head a moaning wind
Chills and oppresses heart and mind.
I am afraid!
He answered me, and on His face
A look ineffable of grace,
Of perfect, understanding love,
Which all my murmuring did remove.
I’m standing, Lord;
Since Thou hast spoken, Lord, I see
Thou hast beset – these rocks are Thee!
And, since Thy love encloses me,
I stand and sing.
