The Touch of His Hand on Mine

There are days so dark that I seek in vain

For the face of my friend di­vine;

But though dark­ness hide

He is there to guide

By the touch of His hand on mine.

Oh

the touch of His hand on mine

Oh

the touch of His hand on mine

There is grace and pow­er

in the try­ing hour

In the touch of His hand on mine.

There are times

when tired of the toil­some road

That for ways of the world I pine;

But He draws me back to the up­ward track

By the touch of His hand on mine.

When the way is dim

and I can­not see

Through the mist of His wise de­sign

How my glad heart yearns and my faith re­turns

By the touch of His hand on mine.

In the last sad hour

as I stand alone

Where the pow­ers of death com­bine

While the dark waves roll He will guide my soul

By the touch of His hand on mine.