Wounded within me is my heart,
I mourn and sit alone;
And every voice that comes to me
Breathes out a plaintive tone.
Ah me! how can I longer live
Where all is desolate?
I wander like a lonely bird,
Bereaved of its mate.
O! would that I had died with thee,
My dear, my early friend!
Then deep affliction would not now
My mourning bosom rend.
But no! It was my Father’s choice!
I bow to his decree!
He loved my friend, and call’d him home,
And O! he loveth me!
The Angel of the covenant
Is standing by my side;
I pray thee, soother of my griefs!
There ever to abide!
And now he makes the storm a calm;
The waves thereof are still;
My peace doth like a river flow,—
I love my Father’s will.