p. 7 | Our Consoler by Mrs. J. C. Brower

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D.C. · Aug 4, 1904

Our Consoler

By Mrs. J. C. Brower

MRS. J. C. BROWER

SOMETIMES when clouds of sorrow hover o’er our heads, And bitter tears are wrung from weeping eyes; When all the joy and gladness in our life seem fled, Sin’s yawning gulf veils from us heaven’s prize;

When oft we’re worsted by the ills to which we’re prone, And all our weak and puny efforts seem in vain, When we in gardens of Gethsemane alone Must wrestle ’neath our load of grief and pain;

Then ’tis that thou, alone, O Comforter above, Canst come in silent sympathy to soothe our woes. Encircled by thine arms of more than father’s love, We nestle close, and find such peace! such calm repose!

O Father, teach me! Help me ever to abide Beneath the quiet, cooling shadow of thy wing. Then only shall I draw lone wanderers to thy side, And win mute lips thy wondrous praise to sing.