LOVE divine, that stooped to share. When drooping pleasure turns to grief, Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear, On thee we cast each earth-born care; We smile at pain while thou art near. And trembling faith is changed to fear, The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf, Shall softly tell us, thou art near! 2. Though long the weary way we tread, Our hearts still whispering, thou art near ! 4. On thee we fling our burdening woe, OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, 1809-1894. |