Lift up your hearts—it is an Angel's pleading,
As anguish keen the fount of grief unseals;
And he who mid his woe that voice is heeding,
Secures the balsam which his bosom heals.

Lift up your hearts—this scene of brief probation,
Is but the vestibule to yonder sky,
And they whose portion here is tribulation,
Seats doubly bright will occupy on high.

Lift up your hearts—though born and reared in sorrow,
Though tempted oft to entertain despair,
From God's blest volume Faith can surely borrow,
Enough to dissipate the darkest care.

Lift up thy heart—though loved ones pass to heaven,
And leave thee bending o'er the grassy mound;
Rejoice that now, accepted and forgiven,
They walk in white since worthy they are found.

Lift up thy heart—departed ones shall greet thee,
From every feature beaming seraph bliss;
The tried—the true—the gentle all shall meet thee,
In regions sunnier—lovelier far than this.

Lift up thy heart—when malice plans thy ruin,
The wrath of man shall work thy Maker's praise;
And He who notes his creature's every doing,
Will yet subvert the dark designer's ways.

If mid His jewels is thy spirit counted,
Safe as the apple of His eye thou art;
And on his throne in regal grandeur mounted,
Unknown to thee He vindicates thy part.

Yes, child of trouble, let the storm-cloud gather,
Thou hast a refuge till its peltings cease;
When dies the tempest, thy indulgent Father,
Will span the azure with a bow of peace.

Lift up thy heart—oh, list those mellow numbers,
As down they float to this sad world of ours;
And if in guilt thy deathless spirit slumbers,
To God thy Saviour dedicate its powers.

Look off from time, with all its airy dreaming,
Bow down in dust upon a suppliant knee;
And say, as rapture in thine eye is gleaming,
My heart, oh God, my heart I lift to thee.