I am being driven forward Into an unknown lane. The pass grows steeper, The air colder and sharper. A wind from my unknown goal Stirs the strings of expectation. Still the question: Shall I ever get there? There where life resounds, A clear pure note in the silence.
Each thing I have received, from Thee it came,
Each thing for which I hope, from Thy love it will come,
Each thing I enjoy, it is of Thy bounty,
Each thing I ask comes of Thy disposing.
