Page:The Christian Year 1887.djvu/16

10 Too weak, too wavering, for such holy task

Is my frail arm, O Lord; but I would fain

Track to its source the brightness, I would bask

In the clear ray that makes Thy pathway plain.

I dare not hope with David's harp to chase

The evil spirit from the troubled breast;

Enough for me if I can find such grace

To listen to the strain, and be at rest.