There Is No Sorrow, Lord, Too Light

There is no sor­row

Lord

too light

To bring in pray­er to Thee;

There is no anx­ious care too slight

To wake Thy sym­pa­thy.

Thou

who hast trod the thor­ny road

Wilt share each small dis­tress;

The love

which bore the great­er load

Will not re­fuse the less.

There is no sec­ret sigh we breathe

But meets Thine ear di­vine;

And ev­ery cross grows light be­neath

The sha­dow

Lord

of Thine.

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.