Wherefore should I make my moan,
Now the darling child is dead?
He to early rest is gone,
He to paradise is fled:
I shall go to him, but he
Never shall return to me.
God forbids his longer stay;
God recalls the precious loan;
God hath taken him away
From my bosom to His own:
Surely what He wills is best:
Happy in His will I rest.
Faith cries out, It is the Lord,
Let Him do as seems Him good!
Be Thy holy Name adored;
Take the gift awhile bestowed;
Take the child no longer mine;
Thine he is, for ever Thine.
Comments