Thoughts on the Patient Endurance of Sorrows and Sufferings
THE SCHOOL OF SORROW
I sat in the school of sorrow;
The Master was teaching there;
But my eyes were dim with weeping
And my heart oppressed wi th care.
Instead of looking upward,
And seeing His face divine,
So full of tender compassion
For weary hearts like mine,
I only thought of the burden
The cross that before me lay,
The clouds that hung thick above me
Dark'ning the light of day.
So I could not learn my lesson,
And say, "Thy will be done";
And the Master came not near me
As the leaden hours went on.
At last, in despair I lifted
My streaming eyes above,
And I saw the Master watching
With a look of pitying love.
To the cross before me He pointed,
And I thought I heard Him say:
"My child, thou must take thy burden,
And learn thy task to-day.
"Not now may I tell the reason;
'Tis enough for thee to know
That I, the Master, am teaching,
And appoint thee all thy woe."
Then kneeling, the cross I lifted;
For one glimpse of that Face divine
Had given me strength to bear it,
And say: "Thy will, not mine."
And so I learned my lesson,
And through the weary years
His helping hand sustained me,
And wiped away my tears.
And ever the glorious sunlight,
From the heavenly home streamed down,
Where the school tasks are all ended,
And the cross is exchanged for the crown.
Compiled and Edited by Rev. F. X. Lasance
Author of "My Prayerbook," etc.
1937, Benziger Brothers
Printers to the Holy Apostolic See