Classic Poem

With yearning soul devout
I seek for Good and True;
In labyrinths of doubt
My bleeding hands reach out
For the celestial clue.

Beam on me with Thy face,
O Light of Lights! and show
My path through this dark place;
Grant me Thy guiding grace,
That I to Thee may go.

Not for a saint's abode,
Not for a crown, I pray,
Not for a thornless road,
Not for a lighter load,
But for the Truth—the Way.