Mortal, what hast thou of such grave concernThat thou indulgest in too sickly plaints?Why this bemoaning and beweeping death?For if thy life aforetime and behindTo thee was grateful, and not all thy goodWas heaped as in sieve to flow awayAnd perish unavailingly, why not,Even like a banqueter, depart the hall,Laden with life?
After a RetreatWhat hast thou learnt today?Hast thou sounded awful mysteries,Hast pierced the veiled skies,Climbed to the feet of God,Trodden where saints have trod, Fathomed the heights above?Nay,This only have I learnt, that God is love. What hast thou heard today?Hast heard the Angel-trumpets cry,And rippling harps reply;Heard from the Throne of flameWhence God incarnate cameSome thund'rous message roll?Nay, This have I heard, His voice within my soul. What hast thou felt today?The pinions of the Angel guideThat standeth at thy sideIn rapturous ardours beatGlowing, from head to feet,In ecstasy divine?Nay, This only have felt, Christ's hand in mine.
Why hast Thou forsaken me? What have I done that I should suffer so?" And then, at the very darkest moment, suddenly, the veil is torn from their eyes! Truth, with her flaming torch, stands before them, and they understand that God sends them suffering to strengthen and ennoble their talent, that it may touch men's hearts and show to tired wanderers on earth glimpses of heaven.
Because thou hast made the Lord, which is thy refuge, even the most high they habitation. There shall be no evil before thee, neither shall any plague come by thy dwelling. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him. I will be with him in trouble. I will deliver him and honor him."-Peter Cratchit