1 When, with error bewildered, our path becomes dreary, And tears of despondency flow,
When the whole head is sick, and the whole heart is weary, Despairing, -- to whom shall we go?
2 When the thirsting soul turneth away from the springs Of the pleasures this world can bestow,
And sighs for another, and flutters its wings,
Impatient, -- to whom shall it go?
3 O, blest be that light which has parted the clouds, And a path to the wanderer can show;
That pierces the veil which the future enshrouds,
And tells us to whom we should go!