The Compassion of the Lord.
The morning light returns to heal the night,
And falls upon the fields where shadows lay;
His tender mercies turn our dark to bright,
And wipe the bitter, heavy tears away.
A father holds a child who cannot stand,
So does the Lord draw near to heal our pain;
He lifts the fallen with a quiet hand,
And sends his peace like sweet and cooling rain.
No grief is hidden from his searching eye,
No broken heart too small for his embrace;
When fear surrounds us and our spirits die,
He meets our weakness with unending grace.
His love remains when earthly powers depart,
A safe and quiet harbour for the heart.
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