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 I know my good soul will fail me not, When Forms from the Dark round me creep, And whisper 'twere sweet to journey no more, But lay down the burden and sleep.

(Look onward and up, O Heart of my Heart, Where the road strikes the skies afar! To cheer you, and guide, thro' your darkest hour,  Behold yon beckoning Star!)

I set my face to the grey wild wastes, I bend my back to the load— Dear God be kind with the heart-sick child Who steps on the Lonely Road.

A SONG OF COLOURS

Gold for the crown of Mary, Blue for the sea and sky, Green for the woods and the meadows Where small white daisies lie, And red for the colour of Christ's blood When He came to the cross to die.

These things the high God gave us And left in the world He made— Gold for the hilt's enrichment, And blue for the sword's good blade, And red for the roses a youth may set On the white brows of a maid.