THE SOUL'S CONSOLATION.

We weep when from the darkened sky The thunderbolts are driven, And wheresoe'er we turn our eye Our earthly hopes are riven; But could we look beyond the storm That threatens all before us, We might observe a heavenly form Guiding the tempest o'er us.

The eye that sees, the sparrow's fall, That never sleeps nor slumbers, Beholds our griefs however small, And every sigh he numbers. The angels fly at his command, With love their bosoms swelling, They lead us gently by the hand,— They hover round our dwelling.

And when the fading things of earth Our hearts too fondly cherish, Forgetful of their mortal birth, How suddenly they perish! But 'tis in mercy and in love Our Father thus chastises, To fix our thoughts on things above; He strikes, yet sympathizes.

We know not, and we may not know Till dawn the endless ages, Why round his children here below The howling tempest rages; But this we know, that life nor death Our souls from him can sever! We'll praise him with our latest breath We'll sing his praise forever!