620. L. M. Bowring. The Same. 1 On light-beams breaking from above, The eternal course of mercy runs; And by ten thousand cords of love Our heavenly Father guides his sons. 2 Amidst affliction's thickest host, And sorrow's darkest, mightiest band, The heavenly cord is drawn the most, And most is felt the heavenly hand. 3 Oh, be it mine to feel, to see Through earth's perplexed and varying road, The cords that link us, God, to thee, And draw us to thine own abode.
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