AS ONE WHOM HIS MOTHER COMFORTETH.
By E. Norman Gunnison
"As one his mother comforteth"
In sadness and unrest,
As one who lays his weary head
Upon his mother's breast,
And findeth there a tenderness
The truest and the best,
So God, our God! we look to thee
When earthly cark and care,
And all the petty ills of life
Seem more than we can bear;
Laying our head upon thy breast,
We find our comfort there. "As one his mother comforteth"
When darkness fills the skies,
And shadows overbrood the way
Before the doubting eyes,
Looks forth, and sees a better land
In which his future lies,
So God, our God! we look to thee
When storms of life assail,
And mercy hides her heavenly face
Behind a shrouding veil,
Through all the storms and darknesses
We see thy love prevail. "As one his mother comforteth,"
Oh, tender words of grace!
In which a hidden soul of love
The weary heart may trace,
And find a sweetness in the words
For all our fallen race;
So God, our God! we turn to thee
In darkness and unrest,
And find the one who comforteth
Upon his loving breast,
Above our earthly comforters,
The truest and the best.
—E. Norman Gunnison.