AGH 192

Verse 1

There is no sorrow, Lord, too light
To bring in prayer to Thee;
Nor is there any care too slight
To wake Thy sympathy.

Verse 2

Thou, Who hast trod the thorny road, Wilt share each small distress;
The love, which bore the greater load,
Will not refuse the less.

Verse 3

There is no secret sigh we breathe,
But meets Thine ear divine;
And every cross grows light beneath
The shadow, Lord, of Thine.

Verse 4

Life’s ills without, sin’s strife within,
The heart would overflow,
But for that love which died for sin,
That love which wept with woe.