2 There is an hour when sorrow bends
Beneath a Father's chastening rod;
From the crushed heart, when prayer ascends
More pure, more fervently to God.
3 That hour is when in heavenly light,
Faith triumphs over nature's woe;
Like stars that brightest shine, when night
In darkness wraps the world below.
4 Not of this world, the hand that takes
Our loved, our lovely to the tomb ;-
Not of this world, the light that breaks
Resplendent, from its vanished gloom.
5 The heart may bleed, the eye may weep,
Frail nature's sorrows must flow on ;
Unmurmuring trust our spirits keep-
Father, 'tis Thou-Thy will be done.