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You are so far above me; yet I stand
And watch your upward way,
I know the path is stony that you tread;
You strive, and toil, and pray.
The strife and toil have brought you peace at last:
Yes, peace--but not forgetfulness of what is past.


I know the heavy burden that you bear
With you must always stay,
But you laid it down at our Saviour's feet,
And its bitterness past away.
And now you would not break the quiet rest
Of him you lov'd so dearly: God knows best,


And so He called Him early to his home;
That home of peace so fair,
Where he is waiting till the time shall come
For you to join him there;
In that land where our lost ones are found once more,
Where we meet our beloved, who went before,


But yet you have this comfort to the end,
Not his, but yours the loss.
God called him home to a heavenly crown,
And he bade you bear the cross;
And the weight of that cross no soul may know,
Save those who through life with its burden go.


You shed below you on the toilsome way,
The path your feet have trod,
A light to point all lesser souls the way,
And bring us nearer God.
In pain and in sorrow, and bitterest loss,
You show how His servant can carry the cross.