Forty Days



Welcome dear feast of Lent: who loves not thee,
He loves not Temperance, or Authority,
But is composed of passion.

It's true, we cannot reach Christ's forti'th day;
Yet to go part of that religious way,
Is better than to rest:
We cannot reach our Saviour's purity;
Yet we are bid, Be holy ev'n as he.
In both let's do our best.

Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone,
Is much more sure to meet with him, than one
That travelleth by-ways:
Perhaps my God, though he be far before,
May turn, and take me by the hand, and more
May strengthen my decays.


excerpts from Lent (George Herbert 1593-1633)


Precious Lord, take my hand,
lead me on, let me stand.
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.

Through the storm, through the night,
lead me on to the light,
Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.

When the darkness apears and the night draws near
And the day is past and gone,
At the river I stand, Guide my feet, hold my hand,
Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.

(Thomas A Dorsey)