4. Thou holdest mine eyes waking. My eyes
continue to watch as sentinels forbidden to rest. Sleep is a great comforter,
but it forsakes the sorrowful, and then their sorrow deepens and eats into the
soul. How much we owe to him who gives his beloved sleep! I am so troubled that I cannot speak. Great griefs are dumb. Deep streams brawl not among
the pebbles like the shallow brooklets which live on passing showers. Words
fail the man whose heart fails him. He had cried to God, but he could not speak
to man; what a mercy it is that if we can do the first, we need not despair
though the second should be quite out of our power. Sleepless and speechless
Asaph was reduced to great extremities, and yet he rallied, and so shall we.
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