“A Great, Big God,” Who wiped the tear,
And soothed the aching breast.
So, in the stress of sorrows piled,
The gloom was lifted when
She pointed up and sweetly smiled
“A Great, Big God; be brave, my child,
The birds will sing again.”
When dark misfortune, hovering o’er,
Brought woes on every hand;
And care was camping by the door,