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Updated: May 25, 2025
So when a soul is in dolor, Cometh the sweet restful Sabbath, Singing and joy in its footsteps, Rapidly floweth Sambatyon, Till that, of God's love the symbol, Sabbath, the holy, the peaceful, Husheth its turbulent waters. * Bless Him, O constant companions, Rock from whose stores we have eaten, Eaten have we and have left, too, Just as the Lord hath commanded Father and Shepherd and Feeder.
Again I looked at the snowfall, And thought of the leaden sky That arched o'er our first great sorrow, When that mound was heaped so high. I remembered the gradual patience That fell from that cloud like snow, Flake by flake, healing and hiding The scar of our deep-plunged woe. And again to the child I whispered, "The snow that husheth all, Darling, the merciful Father Alone can make it fall!"
And when it is dark, all in the hour of Triboogie, Hish creepeth from the forest, the Lord of Silence, whose children are the bats, that have broken the command of their father, but in a voice that is ever so low. Hish husheth the mouse and all the whispers in the night; he maketh all noises still. Only the cricket rebelleth.
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