Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things...
Saturday 15 December 2012
With Mine Eye
I will instruct thee and teach thee the way in which thou shalt go; I will counsel thee with Mine eye upon thee. (Psalm 32:8)
I'm depending on You, Father. You know I can't find my own way.
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