We weep when from the darkened sky
The thunderbolts are driven,
And wheresoe'er we turn our eye
Our earthly hopes are riven;
But could we look beyond the storm
That threatens all before us,
We might observe a heavenly form
Guiding the tempest o'er us.
The eye that sees the sparrow's fall,
That never sleeps nor slumbers,
Beholds our griefs however small,
And every sigh he numbers.
The angels fly at his command,
With love their bosoms Swelling,
They lead us gently by the hand,—
They hover round our dwelling.
And when the fading things of earth
Our hearts too fondly cherish,
Forgetful of their mortal birth,
How suddenly they perish!
But 'tis in mercy and in love
Our Father thus chastises,
To fix our thoughts on things above;
He strikes, yet sympathizes.
We know not, and we may not know
Till dawn the endless ages,
Why round his children here below
The howling tempest rages;
But this we know, that life nor death
Our souls from him can sever!
We'll praise him with our latest breath—
We'll sing his praise forever!