1 Lord, I am pain'd, but I resign
My body to thy will;
'Tis grace, 'tis wisdom all divine,
Appoints the pains I feel.
2 Dark are the ways of providence,
While they who love thee groan;
The reasons lie conceal'd from sense,
Mysterious and unknown.
3 Yet nature may have leave to speak,
And plead before her God,
Lest the o'er burden'd heart should break
Beneath thine heavy rod.
4 These mournful groans and flowing tears,
Give my poor spirit ease;
While ev'ry groan my Father hears,
And ev'ry tear he sees.
5 [How shall I glorify my God,
In bonds of grief confin'd?
Damp'd is my vigor, while this clod
Hangs heavy on my mind.]
6 Is not some smiling hour at hand
With peace upon its wings?
Give it, O God, thy swift command,
With all the joys it brings.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Lord, I am pain'd, but I resign |
Title: | Complaint and hope under great pain |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1799 |
Topic: | Sickness: Complaint and hope in |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. |