If thou art near us, whisper peaceful words,
And teach me how to bear my Father’s stroke!
If ever, ’mid the swelling tides of grief,
My spirit, struggling in the stormy wave,
Lets go her only anchor, faith in God,
And blindly plunges near the dang’rous shoals
Of proud rebellion ’gainst th’ almighty will,
Or total self-abandonment to grief,
Then, sainted spirit! bear me back again,
By some unknown, mysterious influence,