A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
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God near in Sorrow.
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 | A memorial volume of sacred poetry |  |
God near in Sorrow.
Oh! sweet it is to know, to feel,
In all our gloom and wand'rings here,
No night of sorrow can conceal
Man from Thy notice, from Thy care.
In all our gloom and wand'rings here,
No night of sorrow can conceal
Man from Thy notice, from Thy care.
When disciplined by long distress,
And led through paths of fear and woe;
Say, dost Thou love Thy children less?
No, ever gracious Father, no!
And led through paths of fear and woe;
Say, dost Thou love Thy children less?
No, ever gracious Father, no!
No distance can outreach Thine eye,
No night obscure Thy endless day;
Be this my comfort when I sigh,
Be this my safeguard when I stray.
No night obscure Thy endless day;
Be this my comfort when I sigh,
Be this my safeguard when I stray.
| A memorial volume of sacred poetry | |