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137

And weep not that none are around thee to love,
For a Father is with thee to bless;
And if griefs have exalted thy spirit above,
Oh say, wouldst thou wish for one less?
He is with thee, whose favour for ever is life,
Could a mortal heart guard thee so well?
Oh! hush the vain wish, calm thy bosom's wild strife,
And forbid but a thought to rebel.




LINES.
In grief's dark hour I ask for Thee,
And fast descend my lonely tears;
The voice consoling, soothing me,—
The smile that banished all my fears,—

Are mine no more! ah no, in heaven
They now increase some angel's joy;
A nobler ministry is given
That gentle heart—some blest employ.