Dedication

Dedication Are.Ua Young I am alone; and endless seems the shore Where I in silence wait; And yet, I would not have thee cross the path, Where time must toll my fate. All boundless seems the arid, untrod plain, And fear oft fills my soul; But oh! I would not have thee come to see How I shall find my goal. Thou art the bitter-sweet of my poor life; My hunger thou didst know, Yet smiled and beckoned, and I came to find A desert and this woe! A wail from out my riven heart I fling — I'm glad thou canst not hear Those sacred agonies of my sad soul Breathed only for God's ear. I shall not sink, though hungered and athirst, — Though wounds ope oft to bleed — For manna will be sent me from the skies And angel hands to lead. A mortal pain from human hopes, long dead, Is my dull chastening rod — A contrite spirit and a broken heart I dedicate to God. And from the furnace of my fire-burned self, I shall be lifted now, To give a holier service unto Him Who sanctifies my now. Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah