Mother, behold your Savior’s face,
His hands, and feet, and side;
Can you not trust His love and grace,
Who for your dear ones died?
Oh, lay those tender lambs of yours
On that kind Shepherd’s breast;
Their future to His care resign,
And in His wisdom rest.
Mother, how multiplied your joy,
What solace to your fears;
To train them now your sweet employ,
To serve in coming years.
Still look to Him, and trust, and pray,
Who has the work begun;
“E’en as thou wilt,” still hear Him say,
“Woman, it shall be done.”