Thine eyes are dim:
A mist hath gathered there;
Around their rim
Float many clouds of care,
And there is sorrow every — everywhere.
But there is God,
Every — everywhere;
Beneath His rod
Kneel thou adown in prayer.
For grief is God's own kiss
Upon a soul.
Look up! the sun of bliss
Will shine where storm-clouds roll.
Yes, weeper, weep!
‘ Twill not be evermore;
I know the darkest deep
Hath e'en the brightest shore.
So tired! so tired!
A cry of half despair;
Look! at your side —
And see Who standeth there!
Your Father! Hush!
A heart beats in His breast;
Now rise and rush
Into His arms — and rest.