ST.
LUKE
VII
.
12.
IN
silent
sorrow
from
the
gates
of
Nain
,
Bearing
their
dead
,
the
widow's
only
son
,
A
band
of
friends
went
forth
;
and
with
that
train
Even
she
,
the
most
bereft
,
moved
sadly
on
.
But
when
the
Lord
beheld
the
piteous
sight
,
He
had
compassion
on
her
;
from
him
broke
Soft
tenderness
of
soul
,
with
saving
might
,
And
"
Weep
not
"
were
the
gracious
words
he
spoke
.
In
deep
affliction
'tis
that
voice
we
hear
,
When
pitying
,
helpless
friends
keep
silence
round
:
Weep
not
!
there's
saving
power
,
there's
comfort
near
,
That
will
even
in
the
darkest
hour
be
found
.
It
is
an
hour
of
darkest
,
deepest
woe
,
When
those
we
love
are
severed
from
our
side
,
Yet
weep
not
,
for
we
soon
and
surely
go
Upon
their
steps
,
led
by
the
same
blest
Guide
.
It
is
a
darkened
hour
,
when
evil
fame
And
evil
fortune
mingle
in
our
lot
;
Yet
weep
not
,
He
,
who
scorn
,
rebuke
and
shame
,
Bore
for
our
worthless
sakes
,
deserts
us
not
.
It
is
an
hour
of
darkness
,
when
the
soul
,
She
knows
not
why
,
dreads
an
impending
doom
,
While
heaven
and
earth
,
seem
one
black
,
formless
scroll
,
But
weep
not
,
light
will
yet
break
through
the
gloom
.
Poor
soul
!
He
who
beheld
the
widow's
grief
,
And
touched
the
bier
,
and
from
death's
bands
set
free
Her
only
son
,
hath
for
all
woes
relief
,
And
"
Weep
not
"
are
the
words
He
speaks
to
thee
.