NK God, bless God, all ye who suffer
More grief than ye can weep for.
That is well—That is light grieving ! lighter, none
Since Adam forfeited the primal lot.
Tears ! what are tears ?
The babe weeps in its cot,
The mother singing, at her
The bride weeps, and before the
Of high-faned hills the poet has
Such moisture on his cheeks.
Thank God for grace,
Ye who weep only !
If, as some have done,
Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert
And touch but tombs,—look up I those tears will
Soon in long rivers down the lifted face,
And leave the vision clear for stars and sun
