1 Long hast thou wept and sorrowed,
Poor mourner, dry thy tears;
Behold, with light and comfort,
The Lord Himself appears.

2 All other hope must perish,
All earthly props decay;
Then let the seed be buried,
The husk be blown away.

3 Yet think not god has granted
But to recall again,--
His gifts of love and goodness
Shall ever thine remain.

4 The seed, before it flourish,
Must low in darkness lie;
And love, to live for ever,
Must for a season die.

5 But those like thee, bereavéd
Within earth's darkened home,
Are rich in many a promise
And pledge, of joys to come.

6 "Trust in my mercy ever,
My people!" saith the Lord;
Hold fast in deepest sorrow,
That soul-sustaining word.

7 The harvest day is hasting--
The rest from toil and pain,
When those who sleep in Jesus
Shall come with Him again.

8 And, more than all the treasures
That morning shall restore,
Himself, Himself shall meet thee,
Thy portion evermore!

9 Then rest, sad heart, in patience,
With this petition still,
"Lord, all these vacant places
With Thine own fullness fill!"