“Far in the future lieth a fear
Like a long, low mist of grey,
Gathering to fall in dreary rain,
Thus doth thy heart within thee complain;
And even now thou art afraid, for round they dwelling
The flying winds are ever telling of the fear that lieth grey,
Like a gloom of brooding mist upon the way.
But the Lord is always kind,
Be not blind, be not blind
To the shining of His face,
To the comforts of His grace.
Hath He ever failed thee yet?
Never, never; wherefore fret?
O fret not thyself, nor let
They heart be troubled,
Neither let it be afraid.”
(Toward Jerusalem, pg. 8)