Oil and Wine

There is a balm for every pain,
A medicine for all sorrow;
The eye turned backward to the Cross
And forward to the morrow -
The morrow of the glory and the psalm,
When He shall come;
The morrow of the harping and the palm,
The welcome home.
Meantime in His beloved hands our ways,
And on His heart the wandering heart's at rest;
And comfort for the weary one who lays
His head upon His breast.