"PRAISE God from whom all blessings flow," Praise him who sendeth joy and woe. The Lord who takes, the Lord who gives, O, praise him, all that dies, and lives. He opens and he shuts his hand, But why we cannot understand: Pours and dries up his mercies' flood, And yet is still All-perfect Good. We fathom not the mighty plan, The mystery of God and man; We women, when afflictions come, We only suffer and are dumb. And when, the tempest passing by, He gleams out, sunlike through our sky, We look up, and through black clouds riven We recognize the smile of Heaven. Ours is no wisdom of the wise, We have no deep philosophies; Childlike we take both kiss and rod, For he who loveth knoweth God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING DAY: NIGHT AND SLEEP by AMY LOWELL ON MY THIRTY-THIRD BIRTHDAY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON GEORGE WASHINGTON by JOHN HALL INGHAM PALINGENESIS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW FROM THE ANTIQUE (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SENTINEL SONGS: 1 by ABRAM JOSEPH RYAN |