Open our eyes, Thou Sun of life and gladness,
That we may see that glorious world of Thine!
In vain for us it shines, if drooping sadness
Enfolds us here like mist: come, power benign,
Touch our chill'd hearts with vernal smile,
Our wintry course do Thou beguile !
Nor by the way-side ruins let us mourn,
Who have the eternal towers for our appointed bourne.
And hast thou then His love forgot,
Who form'd thy frame, and fix'd thy lot,
Who laid His Son within the grave,
Thy soul from endless death to save-
And gave His Spirit to console,
And make thy wounded spirit whole ?
Each flutt'ring hope, each anxious fear,
Each lonely sigh, each silent tear,
To thine Almighty Friend are known,
And sayst thou, thou art all alone?
In deep affliction's troubled hour,
When sorrow rules the breast,
And earthly soothing hath no power
To quiet its unrest ;
And mirth but maketh jarring din,
When all is heaviness within ;
To Thee we flee, oh God, to Thee,
When all denies relief;
And still more tremulously flee,
In storms of deeper grief:
When all around to darkness turns,
Thy inward light more brightly burns.
There is a secret in the ways of God
With His own children, which none others know,
That sweetens all He does; and if such peace,
While under His afflicting hand, we find,
What will it be to know Him as He is,
And pass the reach of all that now disturbs
The tranquil soul's repose? To contemplate,
In retrospect unclouded, all the means
By which His wisdom has prepared His saints
For the vast weight of glory which remains!
Come then, affliction, if my Father bids,
And be my frowning friend. A friend that frowns
Is better than a smiling enemy.
We welcome clouds which bring the former rain,
Though they the present prospect blacken round,
And shade the beauties of the opening year,
That by their stores enriched, the earth may yield
A fruitful summer, and a plenteous crop.
When I can trust my all with God
In trial's fearful hour,
Bow all resigned beneath His rod
And bless His sparing power,
A joy springs up amid distress,
A Fountain in the wilderness.
Oh, to be brought to Jesus' feet,
(Though sorrows fix me there)
Is still a privilege; and sweet
The energies of prayer,
Though sighs and tears its language be;
If Christ be nigh, and smile on me!
Why should I mourn, though doom'd to go
Through trouble to that land of peace ?
Why shrink from sorrow, when I know
My home is near, where it will cease?
O Thou whose mercy guides my way,
Though now it seem severe,
Forbid my unbelief to say
There is no mercy here!
O grant me to desire the pain
That comes in kindness down,
More than the world's supremest gain,
Succeeded by a frown!
Then, though Thou bend my spirit low,
Love only shall I see ;
The very hand that strikes the blow,
Was wounded once for me.
Is there a heart which ne'er has known
Sin, pain, or sorrow, as its own?
That has not sorely felt its need
Of One with God to intercede ?
Its sin, to pardon and forgive?
Its pain, to heal or to relieve?
Its grief and sorrow to console,
And make the wounded spirit whole?
To Thee each cherish'd hope we owe,
Which soothes or dissipates our woe;
In Thee alone the balm is found,
Which health and gladness sheds around;
With deep delight we know and feel
Thou hast the will, the power to heal.
"THOUGHTS OF PEACE."
O Thou, to whose all-searching sight
The darkness shineth as the light,
Search, prove my heart, it pants for Thee,
O burst these bonds, and set it free!
When rising floods my soul o'erflow,
When sinks my heart in waves of woe,
Jesus, Thy timely aid impart,
And raise my head, and cheer my heart.
Saviour, where'er Thy steps I see,
Dauntless, untir'd, I follow Thee:
O let Thy hand support me still,
And lead me to Thy holy hill!
If rough and thorny be the way,
My strength proportion to my day;
Till toil, and grief, and pain shall cease,
Where all is calm, and joy, and peace.
He who for men their surety stood,
And pour'd on earth His precious blood,
Pursues in heaven His mighty plan,
The Saviour and the friend of man.
Though now ascended up on high,
He bends on earth a brother's eye;
Partaker of the human name,
He knows the frailty of our frame.
Our fellow-sufferer yet retains
A fellow-feeling of our pains;
And still remembers in the skies,
His tears, His agonies, and cries.
In every pang that rends the heart,
The Man of Sorrows had a part;
He sympathizes with our grief,
And to the sufferer sends relief.
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