Anne Brontë

The penitent

I mourn with thee, and yet rejoice

That thou shouldst sorrow so;

With angel choirs I join my voice

To bless the sinner's woe.

 

Though friends and kindred turn away,

And laugh thy grief to scorn;

I hear the great Redeemer say,

"Blessed are ye that mourn."

 

Hold on thy course, nor deem it strange

That earthly cords are riven:

Man may lament the wondrous change,

But "there is joy in heaven!"