And still he listens to that strange, sweet voice.
“Blessed are they that mourn.” What aching hearts
Among the eager, silent multitude
Cry out in bitter anguish that His words
Are vain and mocking!
Lo, the Saviour turns
With infinite compassion in His eye,
And stretching forth His hands as though to give
The blessing He has promised, speaks again:
“They shall be comforted!”