Let not the current of your tears…

Let not the current of your tears prevail, But stem the torrent with religious sail. Th' impetuous storms which inundate the plain Soak thro' the ground, and reach the hidden grain; Nourish'd and fed, the springing corn appears And fresh successive showers fill the ears, Ripen'd, we reap rich treasure from the field Which without rain the earth would never yield. 'Tis thus the seeds of grace sown in our hearts, Are cherish'd by the blessings heaven imparts; Blessings convey'd in sorrow's dark disguise, Which yet the eye of faith can see and prize: These cause the precious seed to take deep root, Flourish and bear an hundred fold of fruit: "The work which grace and wisdom undertake, Eternal mercy never will forsake." God will our hearts (where late the seed was sown) With a full harvest of bright glory crown.