Poems (Toke)/Saint Barnabas's day
H! God of comfort! Thou alone
The throbbing heart canst still,
And with that peace earth cannot give,
The lonely bosom fill;
Upon the wounded spirit, Thou
Canst pour Thy healing balm,
And shed o'er life's hot, weary day
The dew of holiest calm.
SAINT BARNABAS'S DAY.
H! God of comfort! Thou aloneThe throbbing heart canst still,
And with that peace earth cannot give,
The lonely bosom fill;
Upon the wounded spirit, Thou
Canst pour Thy healing balm,
And shed o'er life's hot, weary day
The dew of holiest calm.
O that to us Thou wouldst in love
That blesséd gift impart,
And make us "sons of comfort" prove
To many a weary heart!
O that like holy Barnabas,
Full of Thy faith and fear,
Our daily path might leave a glow,
Like angel footsteps, here!
That blesséd gift impart,
And make us "sons of comfort" prove
To many a weary heart!
O that like holy Barnabas,
Full of Thy faith and fear,
Our daily path might leave a glow,
Like angel footsteps, here!
J. AND W. RIDER, PRINTERS, LONDON.