C. M. Anonymous. Consolation.
1 Let me not wander comfortless,
My Father, far from Thee;
But still beneath Thy guardian wing
In holy quiet be.

2 The storms of grief, the tears of woe,
Soothed by Thy love, shall cease;
And all the trembling spirit breathe
A deep, unbroken peace.

3 The power of prayer shall o'er me shed
A deep, celestial calm;
More soft than evening's twilight dews,
My soul shall feel its balm.

4 For there Thy still, small voice shall speak
Thy great, Thy boundless love;
And tears and smiles, and grief and joy,
Shall lift my soul above.

337 l m jane roscoe
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