  When the heart lies crushed 'neath a load of sorrow, When life's broad river moves sad and slow; When hope is lost in a dread to-morrow, Where all is worry and weight and woe; When hands reject the cross they carry, When feet would falter and strength would fail, When better days seem bound to tarry; Eyes grow tearful and lips grow pale. When even the pleasantest hours are dreary, And each new effort is like despair; When we are so worn and weak and weary, We fain would yield to the cruel care; Bright as the sunshine after showers, The smile of a friend illumes the way; Strewing the rugged path with flowers, |
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