Classic Poem

How blessed the tears of those, who still weep on,
When they have ceased to feel Affliction's rod;
Forgetful that from them the chastening's gone,
Their eyes behold in faith their Father, God!
No more their tears for pain, and suffering flow,
They weep, for joy, to know their sins forgiven;
That God, e'en on the sinful, doth bestow,
Through his dear Son, the peace, and bliss of heaven.
Thus, when the storm is o'er, and, in the west,
The sun breaks forth amid the falling shower;
In heavenly hues the far-off clouds are drest,
And songs are heard within the sparkling bower;
And Nature weeps; though, midst her falling tears,
The bow of Promise in the clouds appears.