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heaven is over all.

And sometimes in the desert bare,
Grief's bitter tears must fall;
But bear in mind, my boy, e'en there,
That Heaven is over all!

And sometimes over flinty rocks
Your tender feet must stray;
And sometimes in a tangled wood
You'll almost lose your way;

And oft you'll sigh for Childhood's home,
When gloomy scenes appal,—
Oh! bear in mind, where'er you roam,
That Heaven is over all!

Be sure a sunbeam, thro' that wood,
Will light you on your way;
Be sure, within that solitude,
Some living fount will play.

And tho' the flinty rock should fret
Full long your weary feet,
There's moss upon its bosom yet,
Will make a pillow sweet: