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Oh, deem not they are blest alone
  Whose lives a peaceful tenor keep;
The Power who pities man, has shown
  A blessing for the eyes that weep.

The light of smiles shall fill again
  The lids that overflow with tears;
And weary hours of woe and pain
  Are promises of happier years.

There is a day of sunny rest
  For every dark and troubled night;
And grief may bide an evening guest,
  But joy shall come with early light.

And thou, who, o'er thy friend's low bier,
  Sheddest the bitter drops like rain,
Hope that a brighter, happier sphere
  Will give him to thy arms again.

Nor let the good man's trust depart,
  Though life its common gifts deny,--
Though with a pierced and broken heart,
  And spurned of men, he goes to die.

For God has marked each sorrowing day
  And numbered every secret tear,
And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay
  For all his children suffer here.
Hilda Nov 2012
How I adore thee! my husband so dear,
Thou sheddest rays of heavenly cheer
In darkest moments of hopeless despair
When I crave a shoulder, you're always there.
Thy prayers for me flow as sweet healing balm
Rewarding me with ethereal calm.
Thy smile gladdens my hours as nectar sweet
E'en as thy faith bestows tranquil retreat.
Thy comforting arms vanquish all my tears,
And my spirit soars to celestial spheres.
When thou in moments of agony deep
I yearn to comfort, yet can only weep.
O! how ineffably I long to prove
My love, which trembles, thy bleakness to soothe.

**~Hilda~
© Hilda November 16, 2012

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