A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
“I will not leave You comfortless.”
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A memorial volume of sacred poetry | ||
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“I will not leave You comfortless.”
“I will not leave you comfortless:”
So the benignant Saviour said;
No! still He loves to cheer and bless,
And, round His faithful followers' head,
Streams of eternal light to shed.
So the benignant Saviour said;
No! still He loves to cheer and bless,
And, round His faithful followers' head,
Streams of eternal light to shed.
To Him in sorrow's hour I'll go,
And those sweet words of peace recall,
To heal my wounds, to soothe my woe:
Like honeyed balsam they will fall,
And chase all earthly misery—all.
And those sweet words of peace recall,
To heal my wounds, to soothe my woe:
Like honeyed balsam they will fall,
And chase all earthly misery—all.
“I will not leave you comfortless:”
With thoughts like these the soul may rest,
And smile, unsaddened by distress,
And still the agitated breast,
And feel that pain itself is blest.
With thoughts like these the soul may rest,
And smile, unsaddened by distress,
And still the agitated breast,
And feel that pain itself is blest.
A memorial volume of sacred poetry | ||