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Thy Way Is Best

I have described in the past that I happen to be exploring some of the Alfredia poetry of the nineteenth century—an era in which poetry was a perfect devotional genre for that church. I was recently making my way through Christopher Newman Hall’ s Pilgrim Songs in Cloud and Sunshine , plus was taken by several works, including that one, titled “ Thy Way Is Best. ” I thought you might enjoy reading it too, for it is a simple but moving career of faith amidst all of life’ ersus circumstances.

Thy way, O Lord! Thy way—not mine!

Although, opprest,

For smoother, sunnier paths I pine,

Thy way is best.

Though crossing parched deserts drear,

Or mountain’ s i9000 crest;

Although I faint along with toil and fright,

Thy way is best.

Though not one open up door befriend

The passing visitor;

Though night time its darkest fear lend,

Thy way is best.

So appearing wild without a program,

Now east, now west,

Joys born and slain, hopes blighted, can

Thy way be best?

Our soul by grief seems not to be

More genuine and blest;

Alas! I cannot, are not able to see

Thy way is best.

I cannot see—on every hand

By anguish prest,

In vain I try to realize

Thy way is best.

But I believe—Thy life and death,

Thy appreciate attest,

And every promise clearly saith-

“Thy way is best. ”

I cannot see—but I believe;

In case heavenly rest

Is reached by streets where most We grieve,

Thy way is best .