1 O Blessed word, our Lord express'd,
To the poor widow much distress'd--
When thus he saw her weep and mourn:
The death and loss of her dear son.
2 Weep not poor widow, said our Lord,
O! what a consolating word!
A word of comfort evermore,
By which the Saviour prov'd his pow'r.
3 It calm'd her sorrows, eas'd her pain,
When Christ restor'd her son again;
What more could she on earth request,
To set her troubled heart to rest.
4 What we esteem of greatest worth,
And do prefer to all on earth:
Is often soon removed hence,
And we bewail the consequence.
5 But all must answer for our good,
Though its a cross to flesh and blood;
Our deepest sorrows, tears and cries,
Can work the greatest weight of joys.
6 For all our sorrows, woes, and grief,
The Saviour brings about relief;
All his corrections in the end,
Proves him to be our greatest friend.Source: Church Hymn Book: consisting of newly composed hymns with the addition of hymns and psalms, from other authors, carefully adapted for the use of public worship, and many other occasions (1st ed.) #CXXVIII