507. L. M. Beard's Coll.
God's Care our Comfort.
1Oh! sweet it is to know, to feel,
In all our gloom, our wanderings here,
No night of sorrow can conceal
Man from thy notice, from thy care.
2When disciplined by long distress,
And led through paths of fear and woe,
Say, dost thou love thy children less?
No! ever-gracious Father, no!
3No distance can outreach thine eye,
No night obscure thy endless day:
Be this my comfort when I sigh,
Be this my safeguard when I stray.