Tears.

Tears most prevail; with tears, too, thou may'st move
Rocks to relent, and coyest maids to love.

God from our eyes all tears hereafter wipes,
And gives His children kisses then, not stripes.

The tears of saints more sweet by far
Than all the songs of sinners are.

Tears, though they're here below the sinner's brine,
Above, they are the Angels' spiced wine.

Sorrows our portion are: ere hence we go,
Crosses we must have; or, hereafter woe.

Knew'st thou one month would take thy life away,
Thou'dst weep; but laugh, should it not last a day.