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Tune Identifier:"^consolation_mendelssohn$"
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To Veil Thy Truth

Author: Thomas W. Higginson Meter: 11.10.11.10 Appears in 2 hymnals First Line: To veil Thy truth by dark’n­ing or by hid­ing Lyrics: 1 To veil Thy truth by dark’n­ing or by hid­ing; To stand ir­re­so­lute, or shrink ap­palled; To deal vague words of cus­to­mary chid­ing; Father! to no such work Thy voice hath called. 2 Our eyes are dim, yet can we seek the du­ty; Our ears are dull, yet we can shun the wrong; ’Tis not in vain that here, amid the beau­ty Of Thy deep teach­ings, we have stayed so long. 3 Some wounds have turned to pearls; some limbs of­fend­ing We had the strength to seize and rend away; Some pas­sioned earth­ly songs have changed, in end­ing, To chor­al an­them and tri­um­phant lay. 4 To build of gen­tle hearts Thy church, the peer­less, To speak the truth in love, what­e’er be­falls, To make our bro­thers hum­ble, tire­less, fear­less, This is the work to which Thy Spir­it calls. 5 Some seeds we sow may blos­som in­to flow­ers, And those bear fruit, to rip­en ’neath Thy sun; And Thou wilt lead these trem­bling hearts of ours On to that peace where and aim and deed grow one. Used With Tune: CONSOLATION
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O Sad-Faced Mourners

Author: May L. R. Smith Meter: 11.10.11.10 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: O sad-faced mourn­ers, who each day are wend­ing Lyrics: 1 O sad-faced mourn­ers, who each day are wend­ing Through church­yard paths of cyp­ress and of yew, Leave, for to­day, the low graves you are tend­ing, And lift your eyes to God’s eter­nal blue! 2 Leave, for to­day, all mur­mur­ing and sad­ness; Twine Eas­ter li­lies, and not as­pho­dels; Let your souls an­swer to the thrill of glad­ness, And to the me­lo­dy of Eas­ter bells. 3 If Christ were still with­in the gra­ve’s low prison— A cap­tive to the ene­my you dread; If from that moul­der­ing cell He had not ris­en, Who then could chide the bit­ter tears you shed? 4 Poor hearts! the but­ter­fly, with pin­ions gold­en, Spurns that gray cell which once its free­dom barred; And the freed soul, with wings no long­er hold­en, Smiles back on life as on a brok­en shard. 5 If Christ were dead, you would have need to sor­row; But He has ris­en, and con­quered death for aye! So dry your tears, if on­ly till the mor­row; Arise, and give your grief a ho­li­day! Used With Tune: CONSOLATION Text Sources: Sometimes and Other Poems (New York: Anson D. F. Randolph, 1893)

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