Classic Poem

O Lord! reach us
Thy hand, rich in comfort and love;
Our grief soothe, and raise us above
The tide of woe in which we move;
In this loss console us; sweet may
Our mourning be; oh! let us say,
"God hath removed her; He took her away."
And, Lord, teach us
In all things Thy wisdom to see.
Thou wouldst not have us alway be
Wandering this vale of misery.