Amid the splendor of the spring

1 Amid the splendour of the spring,
The glory of its flowers,
The joyous songs the wild birds sing,
One constant grief is ours:
Grief for the homes no spring can reach,
Hearts that no sun can cheer,
Souls that no happy warblings teach
The lesson of the year.

2 Where gloomy alleys thickly crowd,
The children, pinched and pale,
Hear angry voices harsh and loud,
Hear suffering's bitter wail;
While the sweet daisied meads of God,
Clad in His gift of green,
Call to the feet that have not trod,
Eyes that no fields have seen.

3 O dark upon the children falls
The shadow of the strife
That robs them of the festivals
And holy days of life;
Drink is that shadow stern and grim;
Christians! awake and pray;
Cry to your Lord for grace from Him
This curse to drive away.

4 He loves the children, who hath given
His life to save and heal;
His spring-time symbols hope and heaven,
And doth His life reveal.
O for new growth of faith and prayer,
Work that a world shall free,
Out of the shadow and despair
To pass to victory.

Source: Methodist Hymn and Tune Book: official hymn book of the Methodist Church #361