Words: , in Sac­red Songs & So­los, 888 Piec­es, by (Lon­don: Mor­gan & Scott, Ld), late 19th Cen­tu­ry. Prob­ab­ly writ­ten around 1871.

Music: .

The au­thor of the hymn was the daugh­ter of a min­is­ter. When she wrote these lines she was liv­ing with her bro­ther, whom she great­ly loved. He also was a min­is­ter, and had the usu­al cares and bur­dens to car­ry that are in­ci­dent to a pas­tor’s life. To him she con­fid­ed all her joys and sor­rows. One day, af­ter hav­ing dis­closed to him some pe­cul­iar tri­al which she was en­dur­ing, she was re­proached by her con­science for hav­ing need­less­ly add­ed to his al­ready num­er­ous cares. She stood by the open win­dow, and saw the long, hea­vy sha­dows cast by the tall pop­lar trees across the lawn, and the thought came to her:

“That is just what I have done to my brother! Why did I do it? Why did I not ra­ther bu­ry my own sor­row, and al­low on­ly words of cheer and bright­ness to reach his ears?”

With such thoughts in her mind, and with tears of re­gret fill­ing her eyes, she re­tired to her lit­tle at­tic bed­room, and there wrote the hymn that has been so blessed.


Go bury thy sorrow, the world hath its share;
Go bury it deeply, go hide it with care.
Go think of it calmly, when curtained by night;
Go tell it to Jesus, and all will be right.

Go tell it to Jesus, He knoweth thy grief;
Go tell it to Jesus, He’ll send thee relief;
Go gather the sunshine He sheds on the way:
He’ll lighten thy burden—Go, weary one, pray.

Hearts growing aweary with heavier woe
Now droop ’mid the darkness—Go, comfort them, go!
Go bury thy sorrow, let others be blessed;
Go give them the sunshine, tell Jesus the rest.