How can a mother's heart feel cold or weary Knowing her dearer self safe, sheltered, warm? How can she feel her road too dark or dreary, Who knows her treasure sheltered from the storm? How can she sin? Our hearts may be unheeding, Our God forgot, our holy saints defied; But can a mother hear her dead child pleading, And thrust those little angel hands aside?
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A. A. Procter Quote
“Kind hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.”
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Source: Three Thousand Selected Quotations from Brilliant Writers — Wikisource
Attribution status: verified · Publication status: cleared
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The way is long and dreary, The path is bleak and bare; Our feet are worn and weary, But we will not despair; More weary was Thy burden, More desolate Thy ways, O Lamb of God, who takest The sin of the world away, Have mercy upon us.
Rejoice, oh! grieving heart, The hours fly past; With each some sorrow dies, With each some shadow flies, Until at last The red dawn in the east Bids weary night depart, And pain is past.
Hours are golden links, God's token Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them, lest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.
I do not ask my cross to understand My way to see: Better in darkness just to feel Thy hand And follow Thee.
If thou couldst trust, poor soul! In Him who rules the whole, Thou wouldst find peace and rest; Wisdom and sight are well, but trust is best.