THE COUNTLESS STARS.
Look at the countless stars, ye of the drooping heart,
And list to the story they tell:
It is all of the land where grief has no part,—
The land where the pure spirits dwell.
Child of sorrow! raise thine eyes there,
And wipe away every tear;
As they sparkle in light,
They shall pour on thy sight
A rapture unknown to thee here!
And list to the story they tell:
It is all of the land where grief has no part,—
The land where the pure spirits dwell.
Child of sorrow! raise thine eyes there,
And wipe away every tear;
As they sparkle in light,
They shall pour on thy sight
A rapture unknown to thee here!
Look at the countless stars, should e'er thy faith grow dim,
And mark how they start from the sky,
To speak of the goodness and glory of Him
Who lighted and hung them on high.
Child of sorrow! they call thee there,
And mildly rebuke thy despair.
O! hear the shining throng
Repeat the heavenly song:
No death no sorrow is there!
And mark how they start from the sky,
To speak of the goodness and glory of Him
Who lighted and hung them on high.
Child of sorrow! they call thee there,
And mildly rebuke thy despair.
O! hear the shining throng
Repeat the heavenly song:
No death no sorrow is there!
