OUR own are our own forever, God taketh not back his gift. They may pass beyond our vision, but our souls shall find them out, When the waiting is all accomplished, and the deathly shadows lift, And glory is given for grieving, and the surety of God for doubt. We may find the waiting bitter, and count the silence long, God knoweth we are dust, and he pitieth our pain; And when faith has grown to fulness, and the silence changed to song, We shall eat the fruit of patience, and shall hunger not again. So sorrowing hearts who dumbly in darkness and all alone Sit missing a dear lost presence and the joy of a vanished day, Be comforted with this message that our own are forever our own, And God, who gave the gracious gift, he takes it never away. |