R. H. Cornelius
AS I journey through the land singing as I go,
Pointing souls to Calvary—to the crimson flow,
Many arrows pierce my soul from without, within;
But my Lord leads me on, through Him I must win.
O I want to see Him, look upon His face,
There to sing forever of His saving grace;
On the streets of Glory let me lift my voice;
Cares all past,
Home at last,
Ever to rejoice.
2
When in service to my Lord dark may be the night,
But I’ll cling more close to Him, He will give me light;
Satan’s snares may vex my soul, turn my thoughts aside;
But my Lord goes ahead, leads whate’er betide.
3
When in valleys low I look toward the mountain height,
And behold my Savior there, leading in the fight,
With a tender hand outstretched toward the valley low,
Guiding me, I can see, as I onward go.
4
When before me billows rise from the mighty deep,
Then my Lord directs my bark; He doth safely keep.
And He leads me gently on through this world below;
He’s a real Friend to me, O I love Him so.
