Pardon.
1 Soft are the fruitful showers that bring
The welcome promise of the spring,
And soft the vernal gale:
Sweet the wild warblings of the grove,
The voice of nature and of love,
That gladden every vale.
2 But softer in the mourner's ear
Sounds the mild voice of mercy near,
That whispers sins forgiven;
And sweeter far the music swells,
When to the raptured soul she tells
Of peace and promised heaven.
3 Fair are the flowers that deck the ground;
And groves and gardens blooming round,
Unnumbered charms unfold:
Bright is the sun's meridian ray,
And bright the beams of setting day,
That robe the clouds in gold.
4 But far more fair the pious breast,
In richer robes of goodness dressed,
Where heaven's own graces shine;
And brighter far the prospects rise,
That burst on faith's delighted eyes,
From glories all divine.