THOU KNOWEST BEST

EUGENIA BEATRICE MABURY

In other days of other years afar,
To all life's vaunting joys I gladly turned,
Mine own self-will, my happiness, the quest—
And yet in vain! For this I had not learned:
Thou knowest best.

Through tears and trials still 'tis ours to prove,
Or soon or late,—for so to choose we may,—
There is no gladness, harmony, nor rest
Until we do Thy will, content to pray:
Thou knowest best.

Beyond the dim horizon's distant hills
I cannot see the path, nor trace the way
My feet shall walk. Nor do I ask, What test?
What gain? Enough for me it is to say:
Thou knowest best.