"PRAISE God from whom all blessings flow," Praise him who sendeth joy and woe. The Lord who takes, the Lord who gives, O, praise him, all that dies, and lives. He opens and he shuts his hand, But why we cannot understand: Pours and dries up his mercies' flood, And yet is still All-perfect Good. We fathom not the mighty plan, The mystery of God and man; We women, when afflictions come, We only suffer and are dumb. And when, the tempest passing by, He gleams out, sunlike through our sky, We look up, and through black clouds riven We recognize the smile of Heaven. Ours is no wisdom of the wise, We have no deep philosophies; Childlike we take both kiss and rod, For he who loveth knoweth God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FOUNTAIN (2) by SARA TEASDALE THE POSY RING by CLEMENT MAROT MAN, THE MAN-HUNTER by CARL SANDBURG THE CITY CHILD by ALFRED TENNYSON LEMNISCUS AD COLUMNAM S. SIMEONIS STYLITAE APPENSUS by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE LONELY WALK by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS A STORM IN SUMMER by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE ELDER WOMAN'S SONG: 3, FR. KING LEAR'S WIFE by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |