When reft of the converse of those that they love,
The godless may fret and repine:

When reft of the converse of those that they love,
        The godless may fret and repine:
'Tis ours to look up to a Father above,
        And try to His will to resign.
The friends in a Saviour need not be deplored,
        Wherever their lot may be cast:
Tho' severed on earth, we are one in the Lord,
        And shall meet in His presence at last.

Our Guardian all-wise and all-merciful is;
        He knows, and will give us, the best:
Assured we shall still be each other's and His,
        To Him we relinquish the rest.
We each commend each to Omniptotent hands,
        And calm on His promise repose;
And know that, though scattered o'er seas and o'er lands,
        We are sure to reach home at the close.

Meanwhile, we kneel down at the same Throne of Grace;
        We breathe up the same daily prayer;
We march the same road to the same happy place,
        The same Spirit guiding us there.
Sweet hope realizes the things that shall be,
        And memory those that have been;
And, reaching by these to what sense cannot see,
        We lose the dark present between.

We strive to be all that the absent would love;
        To flee from what they would condemn;
Intent, when we meet, upon earth or above,
        To be found the more worthy of them.
With aims so exalted, and trust so secure,
        All else is in lovely accord,
All holy, all happy, all peaceful and pure, –
        O, who would not love in the Lord?

~ Henry Francis Lyte

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