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My joy I find in pain and loss, I love the thorns that guard the rose, With joy I kiss each heavy cross, And smile with every tear that flows.

When clouds the sunny skies o'ercast, And weary grows my heart the while, My joy it is that joy is past, And gone my Lord's consoling smile.

My peace is hid in Jesus' breast: May His sweet will alone be done! What fear can mar my perfect rest, Who love the shadow as the sun?

Whene'er He stealeth from my side, With many a fond and sweet caress, I then to Him my love confide With double warmth and tenderness.

'Tis all for Thee, dear Jesus mine, Yea, suffering is my gladsome choice; My joy on earth—my bliss divine— Ah, 'tis to make Thy Heart rejoice!

Since love's divine, celestial breath Is all I need my heart to bless, What matters life, what matters death? Love is my peace, my happiness!