Look Up.
Lone Pilgrim, cease that mournful sigh—
Look up! redemption draweth nigh.
Have loved ones gone, does earth look drear?
Look up! shed not that bitter tear.
What though the heart is saddened now,
And shadows gather on thy brow,
And grief the bosom heaving still—
Look up! submit to Heaven’s own will.
Do trials, unexpected, rise?