[Editor: This poem by Philip Durham Lorimer was published in Songs and Verses by Philip Durham Lorimer: An Australian Bush Poet, 1901.]
The Hand of God
What though grief is heavy to bear,
And briars our pathway fill,
And disappointments ever seem
Our very hearts to chill ;
The dew that falls on the flower
Forms there a pearl-like trace :
And it almost seems that sorrow
Makes fair the human face.
There is no trouble but the Hand
Of Love is pausing there,
And with a golden touch, unseen,
It smooths away all care.
By breezes passing through the boughs,
The dew is kissed away ;
Again the freshened leaves are filled
With joy, to greet the day.
Let not the drooping head fall low,
Nor sink the aching heart ;
Have faith in God, and all thy cares,
Like storm-clouds shall depart.
Our lives are not by fate controlled,
Nor chance, but ever true
The Hand of God which guides all worlds,
Guides e’en the drops of dew.
Take not affliction’s rod amiss,
Let not a murmur rise ;
The gloom has just its measured length
In Heaven’s high vaulted skies.
The greater grief, the more the help
Of Love is near to all ;
A golden crown is ready when
His Hand removes the pall.
1891.
Source:
E. A. Petherick (editor). Songs and Verses by Philip Durham Lorimer: An Australian Bush Poet, William Clowes and Sons, London, 1901, pages 126-127
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