Posted in Poetry

All Things To Me by Grace E. Easley

And since I am not

brave and strong,

Give me Thy hand;

The night is dark

and this is such

a foreign land.

And since I stumble

often, ‘lest

I lose my way,

Walk with me ’til

the night becomes

another day.

Thou knowest of my need

for love,

since love Thou art.

Let me lay my weary head

against Thy heart.

And being nothing

without Thee

Lord, Thou must be

all things to me.

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