994
L. M.
Blessed are they that mourn.
Matt. 5:4.
Deem not that they are blest alone
Whose days a peaceful tenor keep;
The God who loves our race has shown
A blessing for the eyes that weep.
2 The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are earnests of serener years.
3 O, there are days of hope and rest
For every dark and troubled night!
And grief may bide an evening guest,
But joy shall come with early light.
4 And thou who o’er thy friend’s low bier
Dost shed the bitter drops like rain,
Hope that a brighter, happier sphere
Will give him to thy arms again.
5 Nor let the good man’s trust depart,
Though life its common gifts deny;
Though with a pierced and broken heart,
And spurned of men, he goes to die.
6 For God hath marked each anguished day,
And numbered every secret tear;
And heaven’s long age of bliss shall pay
For all his children suffer here.
W. C. Bryant.