620. L. M. Bowring. The Same.
1 On light-beams breaking from above,
The eternal course of mercy runs;
And by ten thousand cords of love
Our heavenly Father guides his sons.
2 Amidst affliction's thickest host,
And sorrow's darkest, mightiest band,
The heavenly cord is drawn the most,
And most is felt the heavenly hand.
3 Oh, be it mine to feel, to see
Through earth's perplexed and varying road,
The cords that link us, God, to thee,
And draw us to thine own abode.