FAIN would weep, and yet my eyes are dry;

My lips are dumb, for fear lest they should speak

The hasty word, and in reproaches seek

Revolt from God's decree that you should die.

I know you would not ask me for my tears,

But rather have me face with courage calm

The lonely hours, and find some healing balm

To fill the emptiness of future years.

And so I pray for strength to bind my soul

With faith unconquerable and hope divine;

And from the grief and sorrow that are mine

Draw cleansing grace to make my being whole.

Thus from your loss one friend at least shall gain

New life, to prove you have not died in vain.