God Our Guide Poem by John Bowring

God Our Guide



When the storms of sorrow gather
O how blest
'Tis to rest
'Neath thy wings, O Father!


Dark may be the clouds and dreary,
Yet the night
Melts to light
When Thou guid'st the weary.


Sacred Shepherd! save and guide me:
If I be
Led by Thee,
Harm can ne'er betide me.

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