Classic Poem

WHY weepest thou?
A few more hours dreary,
And thy spirit, the world weary
Beneath the icy hand of death must bow;
But the fetters then will fall,
And the soul redeemed from thrall,
Will upwards mount in joy, tho' chained now —
Why weepest thou?

The great Eternal One,
Round whom the planets roll,
Beholds each suffering soul
Prostrate in mortal grief before His Throne;
He numbers every tear,
He stills the throb of fear,
He guides us to our heavenly native zone —
The great Eternal One.

Then still thy fears!
Behold thy glorious home,
Yon star-roofed azure dome —
How infinite thy Father's house appears!
There, ah! there we'll rest,
Poor weak ones, on His breast;
Then, mourner, let thy frail heart break in tears,
But still thy fears!