OH THOU OF LITTLE FAITH!

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Sad-hearted, be at peace: the snowdrop lies
Under the cold, sad earth-clods and the snow;
But spring is floating up the southern skies,
And the pale snowdrop silent waits below.

O loved if known! in dull December's day
One scarce believes there is a month of June;
But up the stairs of April and of May
The dear sun climbeth to the summer's noon.

Dear mourner! I love God, and so I rest;
O better! God loves thee, and so rest thou:
He is our spring-time, our dim-visioned Best,
And He will help thee—do not fear the How.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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