O blessed word, our Lord expressed

Verse 1

O Blessed word, our Lord express'd, To the poor widow much distress'd-- When thus he saw her weep and mourn: The death and loss of her dear son.

Verse 2

Weep not poor widow, said our Lord, O! what a consolating word! A word of comfort evermore, By which the Saviour prov'd his pow'r.

Verse 3

It calm'd her sorrows, eas'd her pain, When Christ restor'd her son again; What more could she on earth request, To set her troubled heart to rest.

Verse 4

What we esteem of greatest worth, And do prefer to all on earth: Is often soon removed hence, And we bewail the consequence.

Verse 5

But all must answer for our good, Though its a cross to flesh and blood; Our deepest sorrows, tears and cries, Can work the greatest weight of joys.

Verse 6

For all our sorrows, woes, and grief, The Saviour brings about relief; All his corrections in the end, Proves him to be our greatest friend.