And fewer still will with us go
To share the depth of heart-felt grief;
And sacrifice to give relief.
To bear affliction’s chastening rod,
Our confidence must be in God.
With this above the cloud we soar,
And soon we’ll shout our suffering o’er.
Disease and dark misfortune’s frown,
Then will not sink our spirits down.
We’ll shout, O death where is thy sting?