Have ye ever thought that all the hopes
That make our earth-life fair,
Were born in those three bitter days
Of Mary's deep despair?
O mourning mothers, so many,
Weeping in woe and pain,
Think on the joy of Mary's heart
In a Son that is risen again.
Have faith in a third-day morning,
In a resurrection-hour;
For what ye sow in weakness,
He can raise again in power.
Have faith in the Lord of that thorny crown,
In the Lord of the piercèd hand;
For he reigneth now o'er earth and heaven,
And his power who may withstand?
And the hopes that never on earth shall bloom,
The sorrows forever new,
Lay silently down at the feet of Him
Who died and is risen for you.
VI
DAY DAWN
The dim gray dawn, upon the eastern hills,
Brings back to light once more the cheerless scene;
But oh! no morning in my Father's house
Is dawning now, for there no night hath been.
Ten thousand thousand now, on Zion's hills,
All robed in white, with palmy crowns, do stray,
While I, an exile, far from fatherland,
Still wandering, faint along the desert way.