AND TO THE MEMORY OF HER GREAT GOODNESS

WHEN SHE WALKED IN THE

DESERT WITH ME

_"He led them all the night through with a light of fire."_

PSALM lxxviii, 14.

Lamps that gleam in the city,
Lamps that flare on the wall,
Lamps that shine on the ways of men,
Kindled by men are all.

But the desert of burnt-out ashes,
Which only the lost have trod,
Dark and barren and flowerless,
Is lit by the Hand of God.

To lighten the outer darkness,
To hasten the halting feet,
He lifts a lamp in the desert
Like the lamps of men in the street.

Only the wanderers know it,
The lost with those who mourn,
That lamp in the desert darkness,
And the joy that comes in the dawn.