Do we lie in sickness? sorrow?
Does this cross seem hard to bear?
Is there no hope for tomorrow?
Yet we have someone to care,
He our needs can understand;
He'll keep us by His loving hand.
Perhaps He'll give another day
A day to love, a day to pray,
To steer some love one safely on
To heaven's shore o' glorious home
Perhaps our stay down here is o'er,
He'll lead us home to heaven's shore.
Maybe, He'll come with trumpet shout;
We'll stand before Him with ne'er a doubt
He'll sweetly smile and lead us up
To drink of glory's joyous cup.
To His heavenly home He'll take His bride
To feast forever at His side.
Maybe we'll rest in sweet repose
Beneath the earth; our waiting souls
Will sense His nearness as we lie;
Will hear His great triumphant cry
And rise not ever more to die
But reign eternal with Him on high!
* This was written when I was sixteen for my aunt Dalsie who was sick.
We didn't think it serious and mom wouldn't let me give to her because she felt it too pessimistic. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get another theme for her. It was the last time I saw her alive. She died shortly after.