Is. xlii. 16.
Let
Him lead thee blindfold onwards,
Love
needs not to
know;
Children
whom the Father leadeth
Ask
not where they
go.
Though
the path be all unknown,
Over
moors and mountains
lone.
Give
no ear to reason's questions:
Let
the blind man
hold
That
the sun is but a fable
Men
believed of
old.
At
the breast the babe will grow;
Whence
the milk he need not
know.
G. T. S.
