O thou who driest the mourner's tear
1
O thou who driest the mourner's tear!How dark this world would beIf, when deceived and wounded here,We could not fly to thee!
2
O, who would bear life's stormy doom,Did not thy wing of loveCome, brightly wafting through the gloomOur peace-branch from above?
3
Each sorrow, touched by thee, grows brightWith more than rapture's ray,As darkness shows us worlds of lightWe never saw by day.