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Iii.

O soul, be patient, restrain thy tears,
     Have hope, and not despair;
As a tender mother heareth her child
     God hears the penitent prayer.
And not forever shall grief be thine;
     On the Heavenly Mother's breast,
Washed clean and white in the waters of joy
     Shall His seeking child find rest.
Console thyself with His word of grace,
     And cease thy wail of woe,
For His mercy never an equal hath,
     And His love no bounds can know.
Lean close unto Him in faith and hope;
     How many like thee have found
In Him a shelter and home of peace,
     By His mercy compassed round!
There, safe from sin and the sorrow it brings,
     They sing their grateful psalms,
And rest, at noon, by the wells of God,
     In the shade of His holy palms!

1885.

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1885 AD (1)
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