John Bowring

1792-1872 / England

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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