Words: Mary A. Bachelor, in Hymns for the Use of the Sunday School of Trinity Methodist Episcopal Church, Jersey City, edited by George H. Whitney (Methodist Episcopal Church North, 1868).
If you have access to a good picture of Bachelor (head-and-shoulders, at least 200×300 pixels), would you send us an e-mail?
The author of the hymn was the daughter of a minister. When she wrote these lines she was living with her brother, whom she greatly loved.
He also was a minister, and had the usual cares and burdens to carry that are incident to a pastor’s life. To him she confided all her joys and sorrows.
One day, after having disclosed to him some peculiar trial which she was enduring, she was reproached by her conscience for having needlessly added to his already numerous cares.
She stood by the open window, and saw the long, heavy shadows cast by the tall poplar trees across the lawn, and the thought came to her:
That is just what I have done to my brother! Why did I do it? Why did I not rather bury my own sorrow, and allow only words of cheer and brightness to reach his ears?
With such thoughts in her mind, and with tears of regret filling her eyes, she retired to her little attic bedroom, and there wrote the hymn that has been so blessed.
Sankey, pp. 142–43
Go bury thy sorrow, the world hath its share;
Go bury it deeply, go hide it with care.
Go think of it calmly, when curtained by night;
Go tell it to Jesus, and all will be right.
Go tell it to Jesus, He knoweth thy grief;
Go tell it to Jesus, He’ll send thee relief;
Go gather the sunshine He sheds on the way:
He’ll lighten thy burden—Go, weary one, pray.
Hearts growing aweary with heavier woe
Now droop ’mid the darkness—Go, comfort them, go!
Go bury thy sorrow, let others be blessed;
Go give them the sunshine, tell Jesus the rest.