Blessed Are They That Mourn.
1 Deem not that they are blest alone
Whose days a peaceful tenor keep;
The God who loves our race has shown
A blessing for the eyes that weep.
2 The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that now o'erflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are earnests of serener years.
3 O, there are days of hope and rest
For every dark and troubled night!
And grief may bide, an evening guest,
But joy shall come with morning light.
4 And ye, who o'er a friend's low bier
Now shed the bitter drops like rain,
Know that a brighter, happier sphere
Will give him to your arms again.