1 The God of love will sure indulge
The flowing tear, the heaving sigh,
When death inflicts his fatal wound,
When tender friends and kindred die.

2 Yet not one anxious, murmuring thought
Should with our morning passions blend,
Nor would our bleeding hearts forget
The almighty, ever-living Friend.

3 Beneath a numerous train of ills
Our feeble flesh and heart may fail;
Yet shall our hope in thee, our God,
O'er every gloomy fear prevail.

4 Our Father, God! to thee we look,
Our Rock, our Portion, and our Friend;
And on thy covenant love and truth,
Our sinking souls shall still depend.