Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4
Words: Emily E. Elliott, Chimes of Consecration (London: Seeley, Jackson & Halliday, 1875), pages 68–69, alt.
Written for Hospital distribution.
If you know where to get a good picture of Elliott (head-and-shoulders, at least 200×300 pixels), would you ?
Far from home thy Christmas keeping,
Sad through weariness and pain,
Thou, perchance, hast thought with weeping,
Christmas-time has come again!
Dreams of well remembered places
Fill thy memory today;
Longing thoughts of loving faces—
Thoughts of dear ones far away.
Of the little ones who gather
Round the fire the boughs to weave,
Happy homes where mother, father,
Keep with them their Christmas Eve.
Of the days when thou wast singing
Gleeful songs of other times,
While across the fields came ringing
Far and near the Christmas chimes.
Say’st thou now,
Those joys are over;
Not for me those home delights;
Dark the clouds that o’er me hover,
Lone the days and long the nights?
Chiming bells and happy voices
Fall but sadly on my ear;
All the world without rejoices;
They are glad—while I am here.
Are these sad words thine, oh, mourner?
And these dreary thoughts, my friend?
Listen, then, now to a message
Which home to thy heart we send.
In the words the wind came bringing
From the hush of quiet room,
Where were voices softly singing
In the twilight’s gathering gloom.
Sweet and clear we hear the music
Of a message tender, true,
That we now in Christmas season
We would sing it forth to you.
The organization of the original book suggests this was intended as an introductory hymn, to be immediately followed by another song.