1 Why is my heart with grief oppress?
Can all the pains I feel or fear
Make thee, my soul, forget thy rest,
Forget that God, thy God is near?

2 Mortality’s unnumber’d ills
Are all beneath his sov’reign hand;
Each pain, which this frail body feels,
Attends, obedient, his command.

3 Lord, form my temper to thy will!
If thou my faith and patience prove,
May ev’ry painful stroke fulfil
The purposes of faithful love!

4 O may this weak, this fainting mind
A Father’s hand adoring see;
Confess thee just, and wise, and kind,
And trust thy word, and cleave to thee!

Added by

Blessy Christlin


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