Many sorrows hard and bitter, Many comforts sweet and soft; Thus my cry as joyful singing Evermore shall mount aloft. Song of marvellous rejoicing As in Heaven the blessed sing, For the love of Christ has filled me With His sweetest plenishing. Joy no thought of man conceiveth, Howsoever deep his lore; None can tell but he who hath it, Hath it now and evermore. Ill they spake, “Can God provide us, Cheer amidst the wilderness?” He a feast of joy has furnished, Feast of sweetness, love, and bliss. In the desert Bread He giveth, So that nought we crave beside, Raineth the delight of Heaven, We are more than satisfied. 17 Thus my sorrow turns to music And my cry to sweetest song; Weeping to eternal gladness, Night is short—the Day is long. |