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.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: storms
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8/17/2026 6:04:57 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
