For a time she lay quite still, her face hidden in the long grass, her hands outstretched in misery. Then suddenly across the hills came the voices of the pilgrims singing:—
"Oh sweet and blessed country,
The home of God's elect!
Oh sweet and blessed country,
That eager hearts expect:
Jesus, in mercy bring us
To that dear land of rest;
Who art, with God the Father,
And Spirit, ever bless'd."
Gradually the words of the beautiful song brought comfort and healing to her heart, and before long her voice was heard, sweet and true, as she walked through the Valley of the Shadow, for she could be silent no longer, as the King Himself had taught her to sing—even songs in the night.