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1 Dear Lord, though bitter is the cup,
Thy gracious hand pours out to me,
I cheerfully will drink it up,
That cannot hurt which comes from thee.
2 'Tis fill'd with thine unchanging love,
And not a drop of wrath is there;
The saints for ever bless'd above,
Were often most afflicted here.
3 From Jesus, thy incarnate Son,
I'll learn obedience to thy will;
And humbly kiss the chast'ning rod,
When its severest strokes I feel.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Dear Lord, though bitter is the cup |
Title: | Patience from an assurance of divine love |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1799 |
Topic: | Patience |