They Say Their Path With Flowers is Strown

I.
They say, their path with flowers is strown,
And all their way is bright;
But as for me, I walk alone,
Encircled with the night.
But do not think my joy the less.
Oh, no! I love to be
Abandoned, in my helplessness,
To deep obscurity.

II.
I love the thunder's voice to hear,
And see the lightnings play;
I smile, when many a danger near
Comes thronging round my way.
'Tis then all human help is vain,
All human hopes o'erthrown;
And, in my great necessity,
I rest in God alone.

— American Cottage Life (1850).