EARTH'S SORROWS
You, who call transient absence trial to you,
Who count a Christian's death earth's deepest grief,
Let me declare to you a heart's belief:
That those are sorrows growing restful, sweet,
With the advance of time;
But there are woes
That wear and scar and rend the heart anew,
Each day, or week, or month, or fleeting year,
They look from eyes that shed no healing tear,
They draw the patient lines 'round silent lips,
And freeze warm blood from heart to finger tips;
O living sorrows! Would that I could hush
You all to sleep, and let the worn hearts rest,
As peacefully as do the Christian dead,
With all their sadness to the sun,
Carved on cold stone and silence overhead.
Who count a Christian's death earth's deepest grief,
Let me declare to you a heart's belief:
That those are sorrows growing restful, sweet,
With the advance of time;
But there are woes
That wear and scar and rend the heart anew,
Each day, or week, or month, or fleeting year,
They look from eyes that shed no healing tear,
They draw the patient lines 'round silent lips,
And freeze warm blood from heart to finger tips;
O living sorrows! Would that I could hush
You all to sleep, and let the worn hearts rest,
As peacefully as do the Christian dead,
With all their sadness to the sun,
Carved on cold stone and silence overhead.