The Widower's Hymn

1 Come, my dear friends, and mourn with me,
In my afflicted state;
I an bereav'd, as you may see,
Of my dear loving mate.

2 Her heart was bound with mine, by live
Good works for to maintain;
But she is gone to Christ above,
Forever there to reign.

3 Why should you mourn—perhaps you'll say,
Since God hath thought it best
To take her soul from hence away
To its eternal rest?

4 'Tis for my loss, that I complain;
But I will mourn no mre,
Since my great loss is but her gain;
She's found the heavenly shore.

5 My loss is great to lose my mate;
I'm like the lonesome dove;
I'll go alone and sigh and moan
My dear, my absent love.

6 My children cry—no mother by
To dandle on the knee;
The breach is great; it doth create
Much grief, as all may see.

7 But I do find my heart inclin'd
To lean upon the Lord,
Who doth me bless in my distress,
And doth his help afford.

8 His presence, sure, makes me endure
Severest trials now;
God sends the cross—a heavy loss,
My stubborn will to bow.

9 Since it is so, my sorrows go,
My God hath sent his rod;
He doth his will—I must be still
And know that he is God.

Source: A New Collection of Hymns and Spiritual Songs, from various authors—some entirely new (3rd Windsor Ed.) #XII