Long did the clouds and darkness roll
Around my troubled breast;
No starlight shone upon my soul,
My footsteps found no rest.
To human help I looked around,
But vainly sought relief;
No balm of Gilead I found,
No healing for my grief.
Then to the Savior's help I cried;
He listening heard my prayer;
I saw his wounded hands and side,
And felt that hope was there.
He guides me in the better way;
He makes my footsteps strong;
The gloomy night is changed to day,
And sadness changed to song.
Around my troubled breast;
No starlight shone upon my soul,
My footsteps found no rest.
To human help I looked around,
But vainly sought relief;
No balm of Gilead I found,
No healing for my grief.
Then to the Savior's help I cried;
He listening heard my prayer;
I saw his wounded hands and side,
And felt that hope was there.
He guides me in the better way;
He makes my footsteps strong;
The gloomy night is changed to day,
And sadness changed to song.
— American Cottage Life (1850).
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