Main menu


The Word (Poem)

Lo, I am with thee, even to the end;
Though thou be sore bereft, though every friend
Forsake or disappoint thee, I am thine,
To strengthen thee and help, and thou art Mine.

My Love will not forsake thee, though the light
Is blotted for a while from thy soul's sight,
Sweet as the scent of flowers on summer's day
Myself will come to succor thee, and stay.

Nor will I leave thee. Through each busy year
Thou shalt be conscious that support is near,
Comforts may fail, friends change, and hearts' warmth die,
One, one alone abideth—"It is I."

More in This Issue

« The Road to Heaven   |   Courage »

Rate This Article
(0 votes)

Winifred A. Cook

Little is known about this author. If you have information about this author to share, please contact me.

back to top

Get Social