I Weep, But Not Rebellious Tears Poem by Caroline Anne Bowles Southey

I weep, but not rebellious tears;
I mourn, but not in hopeless woe;
I droop, but not with doubtful fears;
For whom I've trusted Him I know.
'Lord, I believe, assuage my grief,
And help - oh, help mine unbelief!'

My days of youth and health are o'er,
My early friends are dead and gone,
And there are times it tries me sore
To think I'm left on earth alone.
But then faith whispers-''Tis not so;
He will not leave, nor let thee go.'

Blind eyes-fond heart-poor soul that sought
Enduring bliss in things of earth!
Remembering but with transient thought,
Thy heavenly home, thy second birth;
Till God in mercy broke at last
The bonds that held thee down so fast.

As link by link was rent away,
My heart wept blood, so sharp the pain,
That temp'ral loss eternal gain;
But I have lived to count this day
For all that once detain'd me here
Now draws me to a holier sphere.

A holier sphere, a happier place,
Where I shall know as I am known,
And see my Saviour face to face,
And meet, rejoicing round His throne,
The faithful few, made perfect there
From earthly stain and mortal care.