Consolation

Consolation

When I'm tired of the toil and the tumult, And my heart's full of sorrow and pain, And I wish for my hardening sadness Some safe consolation to gain,

Then I leave the crowds for the calmness Where man does not frequently trod; Where I'm alone with the hills and the azure, Alone with the pines and my God.

Lying there on the sweet-scented carpet, With the pines murmuring softness above, The hard, cruel pain in my bosom Is replaced by contentment and love.

My sadness is lulled into silence, My sorrows away from me roll, The pines' consolation is given me, Their peace and security enter my soul. Contributed by A. R. Hurst B landing, Utah.