 | The triumph of music |  |
HYMN.
WHEN human sufferings wound my eyes,
My soothing hope be this,
That pain may prove, howe'er it rise,
An harbinger of bliss
My soothing hope be this,
That pain may prove, howe'er it rise,
An harbinger of bliss
Else, in weak nature's wide domain,
Where misery is so rife,
Could mercy's God himself sustain
The sight of mortal life?
Where misery is so rife,
Could mercy's God himself sustain
The sight of mortal life?
Lucilio.
| The triumph of music | |