507. L. M. Beard's Coll. God's Care our Comfort.
1 Oh! sweet it is to know, to feel,
In all our gloom, our wanderings here,
No night of sorrow can conceal
Man from thy notice, from thy care.
2 When disciplined by long distress,
And led through paths of fear and woe,
Say, dost thou love thy children less?
No! ever-gracious Father, no!
3 No distance can outreach thine eye,
No night obscure thy endless day:
Be this my comfort when I sigh,
Be this my safeguard when I stray.