Bow down in hope, in thanks, all ye who mourn;- ⁠Where’in that peerless arche of radiant hues ⁠Surpassing earthly tints,-the storm subdues! Of nature’s strife and tears ‘tis heaven-born, To soothe the sad, the sinning, and forlorn; ⁠A lovely loving token to infuse ⁠The hope, the faith, that pow’r divine endures With latent good the woes by which we’re torn.- ‘Tis like a sweet repentance of the skies, ⁠To beckon all by sense of sin opprest,- ⁠Revealing harmony from tears and sighs! A pledge:-that deep implanted in the breast ⁠A hidden light may burn that never dies, But bursts thro’ clouds in purest hues exprest!