For Thou hast chosen, in Thy grace,
As all who seek Thee find,
To make Thy dearest dwelling-place
The lowly, loving mind.
Close to the fountain of our tears
Dost Thou set up Thy rest;
And nearer than our doubts and fears
Art Thou, the Heavenly Guest.
O child of sorrow and of pain!
Know this, where’er thou art,—