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And may the promise of Advent be yours this day and always.

DXI. The Barren Fig-Tree

1 God of my life, to thee belong
The thankful heart, the grateful song;
Touch'd by thy love, each tuneful chord
Resounds the goodness of the Lord.

2 Thou hast preserv'd my fleeting breath,
And chas'd the gloomy shades of death;
The venom'd arrows vainly fly,
When God our great deliverer's nigh.

3 Yet why, dear Lord, this tender care?
Why does thy hand so kindly rear
A useless cumberer of the ground,
On which no pleasant fruits are found?

4 Still may the barren fig-tree stand!
And cultivated by thy hand,
Verdure, and bloom and fruit afford,
Meet tribute to its bounteous Lord.

5 So shall thy praise employ my breath
Thro' life, and in the arms of death
My soul the pleasant theme prolong,
Then rise to aid th' angelic song.

Text Information
First Line: God of my life, to thee belong
Title: The Barren Fig-Tree
Meter: L. M.
Language: English
Publication Date: 1792
Topic: Times and Seasons: New Year's Day; Barren fig-tree; Complaint: Of unfruitfulness
Notes: Author: S—
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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