Gerhard Tersteegen

There is a balm for every pain,
     A medicine for all sorrow;

There is a balm for every pain,
     A medicine for all sorrow;
The eye turned backward to the Cross,
     And forward to the morrow.

The morrow of the glory and the psalm,
          When He shall come;
The morrow of the harping and the palm,
          The welcome home.
Meantime in His beloved hands our ways,
And on His Heart the wandering heart at rest;
And comfort for the weary one who lays
          His head upon His Breast.

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