I.

Who that a watcher doth remain
Beside a couch of mortal pain,
Deems he can ever smile again?

II.

Or who that weeps beside a bier
Counts he has any more to fear
From the world's flatteries, false and leer?

III.

And yet anon and he doth start
At the light toys in which his heart
Can now already claim its part.

IV.

O hearts of ours! so weak and poor,
That nothing there can long endure;
And so their hurts find shameful cure —

V.

While every sadder, wiser thought,
Each holier aim which sorrow brought,
Fades quite away and comes to naught.

VI.

O Thou, who dost our weakness know,
Watch for us, that the strong hours so
Not wean us from our wholesome wo.

VII.

Grant Thou that we may long retain
The wholesome memories of pain,
Nor wish to lose them soon again.