quote · Legacy record

Alas! who hath not tears on earth, Perchance though often wept unseen? On every soil they have their birth, In hearts where blithest smiles have been. Tears are the blessings of the heart, When nature oft would fain rebel, Yet bends beneath the rending dart, And tears her deepest anguish tell. Tears are the heir-loom of our race, From sire to son profusely given; Bright dew-drops on the mourner’s face,— Bright only in the light of Heaven. In that pure light the mother sees Through her fast tears the cloud grow bright; Hope gilded with sweet promises, Smiling upon the brow of night. Faith draws the distant vision nigh, Where basks her child in thornless bowers; While cherub hands suppress each sigh, And wreath her heart with fadeless flowers. In that bright world no tears are seen, For God hath wiped all tears away; Earth’s last deep groan of anguish keen Ne’er mingles with Redemption’s lay. Washed in the Saviour’s cleansing blood, The white-robed saints in glory stand, Hailing Earth’s lingerers o’er the flood To the full bliss of Canaan’s land. Oh, blest re-union! No more tears Shall dim the sun-blaze of the soul, But smiles shall be the chroniclers Of joys that own not death’s control.

Alas! who hath not tears on earth, Perchance though often wept unseen? On every soil they have their birth, In hearts where blithest smiles have been. Tears are the blessings of the heart, When nature oft would fain rebel, Yet bends beneath the rending dart, And tears her deepest anguish tell. Tears are the heir-loom of our race, From sire to son profusely given; Bright dew-drops on the mourner’s face,— Bright only in the light of Heaven. In that pure light the mother sees Through her fast tears the cloud grow bright; Hope gilded with sweet promises, Smiling upon the brow of night. Faith draws the distant vision nigh, Where basks her child in thornless bowers; While cherub hands suppress each sigh, And wreath her heart with fadeless flowers. In that bright world no tears are seen, For God hath wiped all tears away; Earth’s last deep groan of anguish keen Ne’er mingles with Redemption’s lay. Washed in the Saviour’s cleansing blood, The white-robed saints in glory stand, Hailing Earth’s lingerers o’er the flood To the full bliss of Canaan’s land. Oh, blest re-union! No more tears Shall dim the sun-blaze of the soul, But smiles shall be the chroniclers Of joys that own not death’s control.

In print by 1888 AD · industrial

Recorded in a printed collection by this date; the original date of these words is still unknown.