Thou canst dry every tear and cure every smart.
Thou art teaching me patience by trying my faith,
This “fight of affliction” springs not from thy wrath;
It grieved thee, my Father, to punish me so,
But ’twas tenderest mercy that guided each blow.
May I bear, holy Father! this sorrow and pain,
And never, O! never, despond or complain;
Though all of my loved ones should sicken and die,
I will not, I dare not, thy goodness deny.
I have seen a sweet child, with a frown on his brow,