OCR Text |
Show I LITE'S SCHOOLING. I sat In the school of sorrow. The Master was teaching there; And my eyes were dim with weeping, j And my heart was full of care, Instead of looking upward And seeing this Face Divine, So full of tenderest pity, For weary hearts like mine I only thought of the burden. The cross that before me lay, So hard and heavy to carry That it darkened the light of day. So I could not learn my lesson. And say "Thy will be done," And the Master came not near me, And the weary hours crept on. At last In my heavy sorrow, I looked at the Cross above And saw the Master watching With a glance of tender love He turned to the Cross before me; I thought I heard him say: "My child, thou must bear the burden, And learn thy task today." "I may not tell the reason, 'Tis enoush for thee to know That I. the Master, am teaching And give this cup of woe," So I stooped to that weary sorrow; One look at his face divine Had given the power to trust Him, And say "Thy will, not mine." And thus learned my lesson. Taught bv the Master alone. He only knows of the tears I shed For He has wept His own. But from them comes a brightness. Straight from the throne above, When the school of life will be ended, And the Cross will show the Love. |