Distilleth balm to allay the inflicted smart,
And “Peace that passeth understanding,” blendeth
With the deep sighing of the contrite heart.
Caroline Bowles.
He who each bitter cup rejects,
No living spring shall quaff;
He whom Thy rod in love corrects,
Shall lean upon Thy staff:
Happy, thrice happy, then, is he,
Who knows the chastening is from Thee!