The Future Is As Bright As The Promises Of God


A little hand stole softly
Into my own that day
When it needed the touch that I loved so much
To strengthen me on the way.
It seemed to say in a strange, sweet way,
“I love you, and understand;”
And calmed my fears as my hot heart-tears
Fell over that little hand.
Perhaps there are tenderer, sweeter things
Somewhere in the sun-bright land,
But I thank God for his blessing
In the clasp of that little hand.
Frank L. Stanton

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