Lord, Our Sore Hearts Bending
At Thy Gates Today,
Suffer All Thy Rending,
And In Stillness Say,
“Yea,

Thou, Lord, Givest.
Thou, Lord, Takest.
Blessed Be Thy Name.

Scarce Into Our Keeping
Was This Bundle Tucked.
Understand Our Weeping—
Dreams So Quickly Plucked!
Yet

Tender Is Thy Pruning,
Though It Slices Deep.
Taut Thy Heavenly Tuning,
Yet Thy Music Sweet.
Ah,

Death Can Have No Victory;
Grave Can Hold No Sting.
Father, All Thy Small Ones
Rest Beneath Thy Wing!
For

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