129. Thou Art Slowly Rising On the Horizon of My Mind
O Father, I pray that my storm‐tossed soul may find the silver lining of Thy presence behind the clouds of my indifference. May the moon of Thy hope ever gleam upon my heart. Thy inner light slowly rises above the horizon of my mind. Mists of ignorance lift before the moonbeams of Thy love. O Father of light, my sorrowing soul beholds, rejoicing, Thy shores of bliss.