Jerome Moross
Should my heart not be humble, should my eyes fail to see,
Should my feet sometimes stumble on the way, stay with me.
Like a lamb that in springtime wanders far from the fold,
Come the darkness and the frost, I get lost, I grow cold.
I grow cold, I grow weary and I know I have sinned.
And I go seeking shelter and I cry in the wind.
Though I grope and I blunder, and I'm weak and I'm wrong,
Though the road buckles under where I walk, walk alone.
Till I find to my wonder, every path leads to Thee.
All that I can do is pray, "Stay with me. Stay with me."
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