Yet Onward

I tliank thte, Lord, for preciaos things, Which thou into mylíle hul brought. Mofe rratefally my spirii sin..., Its thanks for all I vet havc not. 1 lmv fir thy worid to me has bcen, tli.w dcar the fnciuls who breathe its air; Bnt who can Ruess what waits within Thiuc opening rcalins, thy worlds more fair For vails of hope bofore thee dawn, For mists that hint the immortal cnast Hid in thy furthest faintcst dawii, My God, lor these 1 thank the iiujst. JV, joy. to see, from every shore Ikii.ii] my sUj makel prcscncc fod, Thj sunnse rrddciuni; stil 1 before ; More light, more loye, more lift beyond