Thine equal mercy spreads the gloom
That darkens o’er his little day.
3 Full many a throb of grief and pain
Thy frail and erring child must know;
But not one prayer is breathed in vain,
Nor does one tear unheeded flow.
4 Thy various messengers employ;
Thy purposes of love fulfil;
And, ’mid the wreck of human joy,
Let kneeling faith adore Thy will.