Who bids us hope, forbids us not to weep!
He, too, hath wept—and sacred be the woes
Once borne by Him, their inmost source who knows,
Searches each wound, and bids His Spirit bring
Celestial healing on its dove-like wing!
And who but He shall soothe, when one dread stroke
Ties, that were fibres of the soul, hath broke?
Oh! well may those, yet lingering here, deplore
The vanish’d light, that cheers their path no more!
Th’ Almighty hand, which many a blessing dealt,