THE STONECROFT.
Dauntless in drouth and dearth,Its pure, bright bloom is givenNot by the damps of earth,But by the dews of heaven.O soul shut in with pain,—By want and woe oppressed,Look up,—take heart again;In God’s sure keeping rest.The bounty of thy birthRemains, whate’er be given;Denied the damps of earth,Thine, still, the dews of heaven!
Dauntless in drouth and dearth,Its pure, bright bloom is givenNot by the damps of earth,But by the dews of heaven.O soul shut in with pain,—By want and woe oppressed,Look up,—take heart again;In God’s sure keeping rest.The bounty of thy birthRemains, whate’er be given;Denied the damps of earth,Thine, still, the dews of heaven!
Dauntless in drouth and dearth,Its pure, bright bloom is givenNot by the damps of earth,But by the dews of heaven.
Dauntless in drouth and dearth,
Its pure, bright bloom is given
Not by the damps of earth,
But by the dews of heaven.
O soul shut in with pain,—By want and woe oppressed,Look up,—take heart again;In God’s sure keeping rest.
O soul shut in with pain,—
By want and woe oppressed,
Look up,—take heart again;
In God’s sure keeping rest.
The bounty of thy birthRemains, whate’er be given;Denied the damps of earth,Thine, still, the dews of heaven!
The bounty of thy birth
Remains, whate’er be given;
Denied the damps of earth,
Thine, still, the dews of heaven!