Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine;
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
It is right it should be so;
We are made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Through the world we safely go.
Let candles burn, both warm and bright,
Which to our darkness Thou has brought,
When we are wrapped in silence most profound,
May we hear that song most fully raised
From all the Unseen World that lies around
And Thou art by all Thy children praised.
Night and morning, You are by us faithfully
And surely at each newborn day.