2 Thy mercy bids all nature bloom; The sun shines bright, and man is gay; 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.
1 The darkened sky, how thick it lowers! Troubled with storms, and big with showers, No cheerful gleam of light appears, But nature pours forth all her tears.
2 Yet let the sons of God revive; He bids the soul that seeks Him live, And from the gloomiest shade of night Calls forth a morning of delight.
3 The seeds of ecstasy unknown Are in these watered furrows sown; See the green blades, how thick they rise, And with fresh verdure bless our eyes!
4 In secret foldings they contain Unnumbered ears of golden grain; And heaven shall pour its beams around, Till the ripe harvest load the ground.
5 Then shall the trembling mourner come, And bind his sheaves, and bear them home, The voice long broke with sighs shall sing, Till heaven with hallelujahs ring.
1 Affliction's faded form draws nigh, With wrinkled brow and downcast eye; With sackcloth on her bosom spread, And ashes scattered o'er her head.
2 But deem her not a child of earth; From heaven she draws her sacred birth; Beside the throne of God she stands To execute his kind commands.
3 The messenger of love, she flies To train us for our sphere, the skies; And onward as we move, the way Becomes more smooth, more bright the day.
4 Her weeds to robes of glory turn, Her looks with kindling radiance burn; And from her lips these accents steal,-- "God smites to bless, he wounds to heal!"
1 Thou that art strong to comfort, look on me! I sit in darkness and behold no light; Over my soul the waves of agony Have gone, and left me in a rayless night.
2 A bruised and broken reed sustain! sustain! Divinest Comforter, to Thee I fly, To whom no soul hath ever fled in vain; Support me with thy love, or else I die.
3 Father, what'er I had, it all was thine; A God of mercy Thou hast ever been; O, help me what I most loved to resign, And if I murmur, count it not for sin.