400. O Love divine, that stooped to share
L.M.
Abends:
Herbert S. Oakeley, 1874
Oliver Wendell Holmes, 1859
O Love divine, that stooped to share Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear! On thee we cast each earth-born care; We smile at pain while thou art near. | Though long the weary way we tread, And sorrow crown each lingering year, No path we shun, no darkness dread, Our hearts still whispering, thou art near. | When drooping pleasure turns to grief, And trembling faith is changed to fear, The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf, Shall softly tell us, thou art near. | On thee we rest our burdening woe, O Love divine, for ever dear! Content to suffer while we know, Living and dying, thou art near. | |