ies too stern for mirth,
The reach of thought, the strength of will,
'Mid cloud and tempest have their birth,
Though blight and blast their course fulfil.

3 And yet 'tis when it mourns and fears,
The laden spirit feels forgiven;
And through the mist of falling tears
We catch the clearest glimpse of heaven.

326. L. M. Bryant.

Blessed Are They That Mourn.

1 Deem not that they are blest alone
Whose days a peaceful tenor keep;
The God who loves our race has shown
A blessing for the eyes that weep.

2 The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that now o'erflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are earnests of serener years.

3 O, there are days of hope and rest
For every dark and troubled night!
And grief may bide, an evening guest,
But joy shall come with morning light.

4 And ye, who o'er a friend's low bier
Now shed the bitter drops like rain,
Know that a brighter, happier sphere
Will give him to your arms again.

327. L. M. Norton.

My God, I Thank Thee!

1 My God, I thank Thee! may no thought
E'er deem Thy chastisements severe;
But may this heart, by sorrow taught,
Calm each wild wish, each idle fear.

2 Thy mercy bids all nature bloom;
The sun shines bright, and man is gay;
Thine equal mercy spreads the gloom
That darkens o'er his little day.

3 Full many a throb of grief and pain
Thy frail and erring child must know;
But not one prayer is breathed in vain,
Nor does one tear unheeded flow.

4 Thy various messengers employ;
Thy purposes of love fulfil;
And, 'mid the wreck of human joy,
Let kneeling faith adore Thy will.

328. L. M. Doddridge.

Weeping Seedtime; Joyful Harvest.

1 The darkened sky, how thick it lowers!
Troubled with storms, and big with showers,
No cheerful gleam of light appears,
But nature pours forth all her tears.

2 Yet let the sons of God revive;
He bids the soul that seeks Him live,
And from the gloomiest shade of night
Calls forth a morning of delight.

3 The seeds of ecstasy unknown
Are in these watered furrows sown;
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