Full often as I meditate

Upon the world's disorder'd state,

I ask myself if earthly life

Be good, and worthy of the strife,

Has he not acted for the best

Who laid himself betimes to rest?

Reflect, my friend, say, if you know

What station is there here below

Without its fall and daily share

Of sorrow, pain, and anxious care?

And tell me if a place there be

From sorrow, tears, vexation free.

And doth not every passing day,

From youth to manhood, bear away

Its own peculiar load of grief

Upon its back, and such relief

As transient joy may seem to bring,

Is it not full of suffering?

If times be good, and fortune smile,

My God! how envy storms the while;

If dignity and honours great

Attend thy steps, alas! their weight.

If others thou'rt preferr'd before,

Than others too thou'rt burden'd more.

Art thou to-day in joyous mood,

Rejoicing in thy share of good?

Lo! ere thou think'st, thy gains are gone,

Thy joyous mood with them is flown,

The hurricane so suddenly

Doth sweep away thy property.

Dost from the world withdraw thyself,

And lov'st God more than gold or pelf?

Thy crown, thy jewel, thy good name

Is cover'd by the world with shame.

For he who can't dissembler play,

The world as fool will spurn away.

'Tis true, alas! that trouble waits

In daily watch before our gates;

On earth the cross is borne by all,

All feel its weight, and taste its gall;

But shall we therefore cast away

The Christian's light? I tell thee—nay.

The saints, who to their Saviour cleave,

In faith and in the Spirit live,

Unhurt by any ill or woe

Pass through their pilgrimage below;

Though things may sometimes fall out ill

Yet with them it is ever well.

Though they no gold have stor'd away,

They've God, and care not what men say,

Reject with joy, and aye despise

The world's vain pomp and vanities;

Their honour is to hope and wait,

From God alone comes all their state.

The Christian, God as Father knows,

Can in His faithfulness repose;

Whatever trial God may send,

Can't separate him from his friend;

The more He smites, he loves the more,

Remaineth true, though chasten'd sore.

He only plays a hero's part

Who cherishes within his heart

The Saviour's love; whate'er betide,

Firm as a rock shall he abide

When heav'n and earth shall pass away;

Though men forsake, God's word's his stay.

The word of God beguiles our fears,

And turns to smiles our bitter tears;

It robs misfortune of the pow'r

Of hurting in the evil hour;

It brings the sadden'd heart relief,

When bow'd beneath the load of grief.

Now cease, I pray, your tale of woe:

Though full of grief this life below,

Still falleth to the Christian's share

Salvation and God's guardian care;

Who loves the Saviour, trusts in God,

Remains unmov'd beneath the rod.

As gold into the fire is cast,

And comes forth purified at last,

So saints supported by God's grace

Uninjur'd through affliction pass;

A child his father's child is still,

Although his father's rod he feel.

Dear heart, chase all thy fears away,

On thy God's faithfulness now stay,

Though smiting with His chast'ning rod,

He means it well, 'tis for thy good;

Confide in Him, His guiding hand

Will bring thee to the better land.

Live on according to His will,

Although the way be rough, be still!

In heav'n Thou hast a mansion fair,

Where joy will banish every care;

If here we to the Saviour cleave,

With Jesu's angels shall we live.

Thou art but man, to thee 'tis known,

Why dost thou then endeavour

To do what God should do alone,

Or can accomplish ever?

A thousand griefs thou goest through,

In spite of all thy wit can do;

Upon thine end thou pond'rest,

What it will be thou wond'rest.

'Tis all in vain, in vain thy care,

With all thy musings earnest,

In all thy life a single hair

Thou white or black ne'er turnest.

The griefs by which thou'rt sore distress'd

Can only serve to mar thy rest,

Cause anguish unavailing,

Thy life itself curtailing.

Wilt thou do what is for thy good,

And what thy God good seeth?

Then cast on Him each heavy load,

'Fore whom earth and heav'n fleeth.

Thy life and labour, all that's thine,

With joy into God's hand resign;

A happy end He'll ever

Give thee, and thee deliver.

Who car'd for thee ere light of day

Had dawn'd upon thy vision,

While in the womb thy soul still lay

As in a gloomy prison?

Who thought upon thy welfare then?

What good did all the might of men

Do, when to thee were given

Life, mind, and pow'r from heaven?

Whose skill was it that fashion'd thee?

And who thy frame uprearèd?

To glad our eyes, by whose decree,

Say, hath the light appearèd?

Who hath thy veins in order laid,

For each a course convenient made?

Who hath thy frame replenish'd

With members fair and finish'd?

Where were thy mind and will and heart

When land and ocean over,

Yea, even earth's remotest part,

The sky was spread to cover?

Who made the sun and moon to shine,

Who gave herbs, trees, and beasts as thine,

Who bid them satisfy thee,

And no desire deny thee?

Lift up thy head, see everywhere,

Above, around, below thee,

How God in all for thee His care,

And at all times, doth show thee!

Thy meat and drink, the clothes dost wear,

Did God, ere need thou felt'st, prepare.

God, ere thou wast, prepar'd thee

Thy mother's milk, that rear'd thee.

The raiment that in infancy

Thy nakedness did cover,

The cradle that receivèd thee,

The roof thy young head over,

Were all in love prepar'd for thee,

Ere yet thine eye was op'd to see

The wonders that abounded,

The world that thee surrounded.

Yet wilt thou walk by thine own light

Thy life long, only heeding,

Believing nothing but thy sight,

Go whither it is leading.

In all that thou dost undertake,

Thy heart thy counsellor dost make,

Unless by it selected,

Is ev'ry plan rejected.

Behold! how oft and openly

God's providence undoeth

The plans thy hand so ardently

And hopefully pursueth.

But it doth happen frequently,

That e'en the very things we see

The wisest men could never

Predict, or think of ever.

How oft thy stiff-neck'd self-will hath

To bitter need reduc'd thee!

When heart and mind deluded, death

To take for life, seduc'd thee!

And had the Lord thy work and deed

Along the path allow'd proceed

That thou thyself had'st taken,

Lost wert thou and forsaken.

He who to us love endless feels,

When self-involv'd, then frees us,

Ev'n self-inflicted wounds He heals,

Guides when astray He sees us.

Paternal kindness, tender love,

To these His heart doth ever move,

This love poor sinners beareth,

For whom as sons He careth.

Ah! silence doth He often keep,

But still the while He blesses,

E'en though we tears of anguish weep,

Though grief the heart depresses,

Although our eager eyes we strain,

And seek for light, but seek in vain,

And seek deliv'rance ever

From woe, but find it never.

But God our Lord still onward straight

His path pursueth ever,

And brings us to heav'n's peaceful gate,

Where storms assail us never.

What dark was and mysterious here

In all God's ways, shall be then clear,

His wisdom we'll discover

When our life-work is over.

Then peace, be still, my troubled breast!

And let no grief distress thee,

God ever plans for thee the best,

His heart is set to bless thee.

Thy cause the Saviour ne'er can leave,

In this assuredly believe,

Tow'rd us He ever yearneth,

His ardent love aye burneth.

With grace and truth His loving heart

For evermore is glowing,

And keenly feeleth He the smart,

When from our eyes are flowing

Hot tears, caus'd by vain sorrow's load,

As if in wrath and hate our God

Could ever helpless leave us,

Would never comfort give us!

The evil thought, ah! put away,

No more may it deceive thee,

Although what happ'neth, seldom may

Increase of pleasure give thee.

But that will happen certainly

Which God thy Father doth decree;

From what He wills to send thee,

No mortal can defend thee.

Then to thy Father's arms of love

In confidence betake thee,

Pray on till His compassion move,

His special care He make thee!

Then by His Spirit will He guide,

Through unknown paths still at thy side,

From all thy woe and striving

At last deliv'rance giving.

O my soul, why dost thou grieve,

Why dost mourn so bitterly,

That more freely God doth give

Gifts to others than to thee?

In thy God delight thy heart,

He's the good enduring part.

Of the human race have none

In this world to be a right,

All, yea each created one,

But a guest is for a night.

God in His house Lord is still,

Gifts divideth as He will.

Know, thou art not therefore here,

That thou should'st possess the earth;

Look thou up to heav'n so clear,

There's thy gold of priceless worth,

There is honour, there is joy,

Without envy or alloy!

Great the folly his who grieves

For a little vanity,

When God to him freely gives

Treasures of eternity.

Is the handredweight thy gain?

Thou canst then despise the grain.

All thy fair possessions see,

That are valued by thy heart,

None of them can go with thee

When from earth thou must depart.

Thou must leave them here below,

When death's door thou passest through.

The soul's nourishment, God's grace,

And the Saviour's precious blood,

Ne'er through time in worth decrease,

But remain for ever good.

Earthly goods must pass away,

Soul-goods never can decay.

Still art thou so blind, alas!

Thinking—but all erringly,

Eyes hast thou, but in the glass

Of the word thou dost not see.

Child of man! fix there thine eyes,

For it is a peerless prize.

Count thy fingers every one,

And thine other members o'er,

They are precious, they're thine own,

Lov'd by thee than treasure more,

Gold could never from thee buy

E'en the least, though men should try.

Search and ask thine inmost heart,

'Twill instruct thee what of good

Daily falleth to thy part,

By God's bounteous hand bestow'd;

Than the sand upon the shore

More, and yet desir'st thou more!

Did thy Heav'nly Father see

That it would be for thy good,

What desires so eagerly

Thy misguided flesh and blood,

He would ne'er thee joyless leave,

But would of His bounty give.

God to thee is full of love,

Faithful and sincere is He,

When thou wishest aught, He'd prove

Of what kind thy wish may be:

If 'tis good, He will bestow,

If 'tis ill, He'll answer—no.

Meanwhile doth His Spirit give

Manna to thy fainting heart,

Food by which the angels live,

Grace to deck thee doth impart,

For His portion chooseth thee,

Thou shalt share salvation free.

Look then to thy God above,

Sad and troubled countenance!

Cease to sigh, faith's virtue prove,

By thy clear and joyous glance!

While thy sky is overcast

By affliction, hold it fast!

And as Heav'n's adopted son,

Thy rebellious will restrain;

Touch thy harp, let 'fore God's throne

Grateful songs resound again.

More at all times doth God give

Than thou'rt worthy to receive.

Live thou ever in God's fear,

As thou journeyest to heav'n,

Take whate'er befalls thee here

As a gift in wisdom giv'n.

Are they evil days, thou'lt see

God and Heav'n endure for thee.

Ah! lovely innocence, how evil art thou deem'd,

How lightly oft thy work by all the world's esteem'd!

Thou servest God, thy Lord, and to His word thou cleavest;

For this, from men thou nought but scorn and hate receivest.

Right on thy road thou go'st, flee'st from the crooked way;

Another steppeth in and bears the prize away,

Increaseth his small store, his chests and barns he filleth;

Thou'rt poor with all thy house, scarce earn'st what hunger stilleth.

The wicked one thou chid'st, who walks not righteously,

Another practiseth a sweet hypocrisy

That love and praise secures, and him on high upraises,

While in the lurch the world thee leaves, and much abases.

Thou say'st that virtue is the Christian's fairest crown,

But reputation doth the world lay stress upon;

He who will this secure, it saith, must ever labour

To suit the times, and live and act just like his neighbour.

Thou boast'st thyself in God, thy tongue doth aye commend

The blessing God doth as His children's portion send:

“If this be then the case,” the world says, “come and show it,

The happy fortune thou hast had, we'd see and know it.”

Stand firm, thou pious heart, stand firm, thy faith retain!

'Mid disappointment sore thy God will true remain,

Commit thy ways to Him, let Him protect and guide thee,

Thou'lt triumph at the last o'er evils that betide thee.

Dost fail to please thy kind?—It is a sad disgrace!

Enough, if on thee smile thy heav'nly Father's face.

The worst that man can do is to betray and leave thee;

But God is righteous, and His judgment can't deceive thee.

Doth He say, “Thou art Mine, thy way doth please Me well?”

Then be thy heart consol'd, let joy thy bosom swell,

Cast to the wind the lies by wicked men indited,

Be still, and thou shalt see, by God shall all be righted.

Pride, arrogance, and pomp are ne'er enduring found,

Like brightest glass they fall, and break upon the ground;

So when the luck of men has mounted up to heaven,

It soon comes crashing down, and on the earth lies riven.

And all ill-gotten wealth, when right our estimate,

Is on the heart and mind a dead oppressive weight

That burdens evermore, with pain the conscience wringeth,

Its quiet rest disturbs, and into trouble bringeth.

And what have many more than of the poor the sweat?

What do they eat and drink, and what gain do they get?

They rob the widows' store, spite of their tears them wronging,

Who like a thirsty land for sympathy are longing.

Is this felicity? is this magnificence?

Oh! what a sentence dire will God the Judge pronounce

Upon the day of doom, when from His throne so loudly

It sounds, how shall they seem who strut and boast so proudly!

But thou who now thy God dost honour with whole heart,

And never from His ways dost let thy feet depart,

Shalt in the goodly throng, whom God with manna feedeth,

With praise and honour clad, walk with Him where he leadeth.

In patience, then, possess thy soul a little while,

Do right, and persevere and live all free from guile,

Act that the fairest prize in yonder life be given

Thee, from His gracious hand who rules in earth and heaven.

Whate'er on earth betide, from care remain all free,

'Twill fall out for thy good, as God the best may see;

Rest thou assur'd, He will no wish of thine deny thee,

With joy fulfil thy will, with every good supply thee.

I have deserv'd it, cease t' oppose

The Lord's will, shall I never?

Thou bitter cup, thou heavy cross,

Come hither to me ever!

From pain all free

May never be

He 'gainst the Lord who fighteth,

As I each day,

Who trod the way

Wherein the world delighteth.

I'll bear the chastisement of God,

A patient soul possessing,

For born in sin, sin's path I trod,

Aye ventur'd on transgressing,

That pleasures vain

I might attain,

In wantonness time wasting,

The gracious word

Of God the Lord,

As I ought, never tasting.

The road of God's commandments good

I often have forsaken,

And on the way that leads from God

Am therefore overtaken

By grief and smart,

That pierce my heart;

God's hand thus am I feeling,

Who 'fore His throne

To each his own

Awards, in justice dealing.

For just and true is God above,

We fail His goodness telling,

A mother's truth, a father's love

Alike in him are dwelling.

God's wrath, I ween,

As oft hath been

Ours, is not unrelenting.

Men steel their heart,

Refuse t' impart

Grace e'en to the repenting.

In sooth 'tis not the mind of God,

His anger ever endeth,

Return we, He removes the rod,

And to the weary sendeth

A sweet release,

To mark doth cease,

And visit our transgressing;

His wrath He turns,

And tow'rd us yearns,

Gives after cursing blessing.

And so the Lord will deal with me,

And every one behold it,

And vindicate the right will He,

My cause, He will uphold it.

Thy face so bright,

Lord! to the light,

From deepest pit will raise me,

That ever I

May heartily

Thy truth exalt, and praise Thee.

Rejoice not o'er me, then, my foes,

I lie not here for ever,

My God will come ere ye suppose,

And speedily deliver.

His holy hand

Will make me stand,

Firm and secure for ever;

Good times to me

And joy will He

Give after stormy weather.

I am in need, yet scarce can speak

Of real need and sorrow;

When God my Light is, day must break

And bring a glorious morrow,

E'en in the night,

While yet the might

Of darkness much increaseth,

And when this Light

Dawns on my sight,

Whate'er oppresses ceaseth.

The time will come, e'en now 'tis near,

When I shall sing salvation,

When he who lov'd to mock and jeer

At me in tribulation,

And bid me tell

Where God doth dwell,

Shall from God's face be driven

With head cast down;

To me a crown

Of honour shall be given!

Ah! faithful God, compass'nate heart,

Whose goodness never endeth,

I know this bitter cross and smart

Thy hand it is that sendeth!

Yea, Lord, I know this burden great

Thou sendest not in wrath and hate,

But 'tis in love appointed.

That ever is Thy way all-wise,

Thy child in woe must languish,

Thou whom Thou lovest, dost chastise,

'Fore joy Thou sendest anguish,

Sink'st us to hell, in woe we lie,

And raisest us again on high,

Thus with us fares it always.

Thou ever leadest wondrously

Thy children dear who please Thee!

Would I have life? Then first must I

E'en down to death abase me.

In honour who'd be raised on high,

He self-abas'd on earth must lie

As worthless dust and ashes.

On earth, Lord, Thy belovèd Son

Such sorrow had to try Him;

Ere He could reach His glorious throne

Ill men must crucify Him.

He pass'd through trouble, need, and woe,

Nor shrunk He from death's cruel blow,

To reach the joys of heaven.

Did then Thy good and holy Son

Himself for us deliver,

And I enslavèd, sinful one,

Shall I resist Thee ever?

Of patience aye the glass is He,

And who His face desires to see

Must in His footsteps follow.

How is it reason finds it hard,

The truth so oft rejecteth,

That Thou with favour dost regard

E'en while Thy hand afflicteth?

How long doth oft the cross remain,

How hardly can we love and pain

Then reconcile together.

God of the Church! when fails my pow'r,

Strength graciously then give me;

And grant that nought in trial's hour

Of faith may e'er deprive me.

Uphold me by Thy might, O Lord,

Establish me then in Thy word,

From murmuring deliver!

When I am weak, be Thou my stay,

In faithfulness be near me,

That I continually may pray,

And call on Thee to hear me.

While yet a heart hopes and believes,

And still in pray'r unceasing lives,

Bold is it, and unvanquish'd.

In measure, Lord, apply the rod,

Lest I sink altogether;

Thou know'st how I can bear the load,

How life's imperill'd ever,

For neither steel nor stone am I,

But sooner pass away and die,

E'en than a fleeting vapour.

Ah! Jesus, who did'st stoop so low,

Thy blood shed, life that giveth,

The bitter cross full well dost know,

And how the spirit grieveth

When cross and heavy woe combine,

So wilt Thou hear each cry of mine,

When bitterly complaining.

I know Thou feelest sympathy

When want and woe distress me,

That Thou with help wilt visit me,

And graciously wilt bless me.

Ah! strengthen Thou my feeble hand,

And lead my feet where I may stand

In safety—Come and save me!

Speak courage to my fainting heart,

With comfort, Lord, support me.

Of weary souls the Rest Thou art,

My Tow'r, where none can hurt me!

My Rock, where from the sun I hide,

My Tent, where safely I abide

When storms without are raging!

And as in love, while here I dwell,

Thou suff'ring hast decreed me,

Thy grace vouchsafe Thy child, Lord, still,

In Thy green pastures lead me;

That I in faith may patience gain,

Through patience rich reward attain,

When I've endur'd the trial.

Oh! Holy Ghost, of joy the Oil,

Whom God from Heaven giveth,

Refresh me, pour into my soul

What heart and flesh reviveth.

Of glory, Thou the Spirit art,

Know'st what in heav'n shall be my part

Of grace, joy, consolation!

How fair 'twill be, ah! let me gaze

Upon the life so glorious,

That Thou wilt give to those who pass

Through trials sore, victorious.

The earth with all its treasures fair

Can never with this life compare,

They pale and fade before it.

Thou'lt deal with me so graciously,

I'll endless joy be tasting,

For trials known to Thee and me

Have glory everlasting.

Thou'lt wipe the tear-drop from mine eyes,

To exultation turn my sighs,

Lord! I believe it. Amen!

Father of mercies! God most high,

Deign graciously to hear me,

Thou say'st, “Knock at my door and cry,

In time of need draw near me.

As urgently

Thou long'st, to thee

I'll come to help and raise thee,

That with thy mouth,

In very truth,

Thou joyfully may'st praise me.”

Commit to God, both morn and night,

Thy ways, and doings ever;

He knoweth how to guide thee right,

And always will deliver.

To Him reveal

Whate'er dost feel

Thy heart to sorrow moveth;

He is Thy Lord,

Knows how to guard

And shield thee whom He loveth.

For His belovèd child will care

The faithful loving Father;

Who righteous and believing are,

He to His rest will gather.

Then, people dear,

Hope ever here

On Him who aye relieves you;

His throne before

Your hearts outpour,

Tell Him whatever grieves you!

Ah! God our Shield! Thy word how sweet

It sounds to Thine afflicted:

“I'll come to thee with succour meet,

When thy heart is dejected.

He loveth me,

So lov'd shall be,

Secure for aye I'll make him,

From care all free

Shall sit by me,

I'll to my bosom take him.”

The Lord to them is ever nigh

Who trustfully draw near Him,

He's at their side whene'er they cry,

Helps them o'ercome, who fear Him.

In misery

Who low do lie,

He raiseth and relieveth,

And joy imparts

To fainting hearts,

Them pow'r and might he giveth.

“In truth, who my great name doth fear,”

Saith Christ, “and firm believeth,

God doth regard his pray'r sincere,

His heart's wish freely giveth.”

Then one and all

Draw near and call,

Who asketh, he obtaineth;

Who seeketh there,

The fruit so fair

With great advantage gaineth.

Hear what yon unjust judge doth say:

“This widow's supplication

I must regard, lest day by day

Her coming cause vexation.”

His people's cry

Shall God deny,

Who day and night are praying?

It cannot be,

He'll set them free

From woe, not long delaying.

For when the just shed tears through care,

God soon with joy relieveth,

To those who broken-hearted are,

Again He laughter giveth.

He'll suffer woe

Who will below

'Mid men be godly living;

But at his side

Will God abide,

Him grace sufficient giving.

“A moment I've forsaken thee,

And left thee in temptation;

With mercy great, as thou shalt see,

And boundless consolation,

I'll give the crown,

And to the throne

Of glory shall I raise thee,

To joy convert

Thy grief and hurt,

Thou evermore shalt praise me.”

Ah! gracious God, ah! Father's heart!

For years my consolation!

Why dost Thou let me feel such smart,

Pass through such tribulation?

My sad heart aches,

My eye awakes,

And bitter tears sheds ever,

My face once bright

Doth lose its light,

From sighing ceasing never.

How long, O blessèd Lord! wilt Thou,

Unmindful of me, leave me?

How long shall I in grief lie low,

And inward sorrow grieve me?

How long wilt chide,

And Thy face hide,

In darkness let me languish?

Say, when care's load

Shall cease, my God!

To wring my heart with anguish?

Wilt Thou eternally repel,

And show Thy goodness never?

And shall Thy word and promise fail,

Be put to shame for ever?

Doth wrath so burn,

That Thou'lt ne'er turn

To me, and stand beside me?

Yet, Lord, I will

Cleave to Thee still,

Thy hand in all can guide me.

My heart amid earth's misery

For Thee, O Lord! is aching;

My God! I wait and hope in Thee,

Let not shame me o'ertaking;

Thy friend in woe

Plunge, or the foe

Give cause for jubilation;

But, Lord, may I

Rejoice, rais'd high,

In glorious exaltation.

Ah! Lord, Thou true and faithful art,

Thy heart can ne'er disown me;

Nerve me in fight to bear my part,

With victory then crown me!

Lay Thou on me

The load, by Thee

Appointed, that I bear it.

When Thou the rod

Dost use, my God!

In measure may I share it!

Thy strength, O Lord! is infinite,

Thy hand hath all created,

Could all again with ruin smite,

Its pow'r is unabated.

We sound Thy name

With high acclaim,

As Lord of Hosts we own Thee!

In counsel right

No skill nor might

Can foil, nor e'er dethrone Thee.

Thou who dost Israel console,

Thou, Saviour, in affliction!

Ah! why permittest Thou my soul

To sink in sore dejection?

Thou dost not rest,

Thou'rt as a guest,

Who'rt in the land a stranger!

A hero Thou

Whose courage low

Sinks 'fore disgrace or danger?

Nay, Lord, not such a one art Thou!

My inmost heart believeth;

Thou standest firm, 'mid us shines now

The light that Thy word giveth.

Here restest Thou,

Lord, with us now;

Who call upon Thee ever,

At fitting hour

Wilt by Thy pow'r

From ev'ry woe deliver.

O Lord! my lengthen'd tale is o'er,

Then hear Thou my petition,

Help me, who often at Thy door

Have knock'd, and sought admission.

Help, Helper, me!

I'll joyfully

Thankoff'rings lay before Thee;

And when life's o'er

Shall evermore

In heav'n above adore Thee.

'Tis patience must support you

When sorrow, grief, or smart,

Or whate'er else may hurt you,

Doth rend your aching heart.

Belov'd and chosen seed!

If not a death will kill you,

Yet once again I tell you,

'Tis patience that you need.

The cup of patience drinketh

With nausea flesh and blood,

Back from the cross it shrinketh;

When threaten'd with the rod,

It shuddereth with fear.

'Tis bold when nought assaileth,

Heart shrinks, and courage faileth,

When storms and rain are here.

Why patience causeth sadness,

Is that the carnal mind

Unclouded joy and gladness

In God aye hop'd to find,

Though He hath made it clear,

He chastens whom He loveth,

And whom He much approveth,

He much afflicteth here.

God giveth patience ever,

The Spirit in the breast

Begetteth it whenever

Within us He doth rest;

The worthy, noble Guest

Preserves us from despairing,

And nerves for burden-bearing

The heart when sore distress'd.

From faith all patience springeth,

On God's own word depends,

To this she firmly clingeth,

Herself with this defends.

'Tis her high tow'r and wall,

Where she securely hideth,

Where God for her provideth,

Here fears she ne'er a fall.

And patience trust reposeth

On Jesu's death and pain;

When Satan her opposeth,

Here takes she heart again,

And saith, “Thou Prince of hell!

Thou never shalt devour me,

Too high I'm lifted o'er thee,

In Jesus do I dwell.”

Contented patience stayeth

On God's decree all-wise;

Although His grace delayeth,

Scarce feels fatigue arise;

With trust she bears her load,

And joyfully endureth,

This thought her heart assureth,

It is the hand of God.

Long, long, can patience waiting

The weary time beguile,

On God's word meditating

Get saving good the while.

With earnest fervent pray'r,

Each morn and eve she guardeth

Herself from ill, and wardeth

Off Satan's every snare.

To God's will patience boweth,

Doth His command fulfil,

'Mid scorn of foes she knoweth

'Tis wisest to be still.

Who will, let him despise,

Unhurt by the dishonour

And shame thus put upon her,

Her heart doth o'er it rise.

To honour patience serveth

Her God, and never more

From love and fealty swerveth;

Although He smiteth sore,

Yet doth she ever praise

His holy hand, and telleth

That God on high who dwelleth,

Doth well in all his ways.

And patience life sustaineth,

Adds to our tale of years;

She drives away what paineth

The heart, and stills its fears.

It is a beauteous light

That giveth him who heedeth,

And whom God's guidance leadeth,

A face with joy all bright.

Great joy from patience springeth,

The head a noble crown,

Gems for the neck she bringeth

From throne of Heaven down.

She wipes from weeping eyes

The tears of grief and anguish;

Whose souls with longing languish,

With ample good supplies.

My soul for patience sigheth,

My heart longs eagerly,

How urgently it crieth

And oft is known to Thee,

Of grace who hast full store!

Lord, hear my supplication,

Give patient resignation;

I ask for nothing more.

For patience the petition

Shall often up to Thee,

From out my low condition,

Ascend, O Lord, from me.

And in my dying hour,

Thy mercy still extending,

Oh! grant a patient ending,

Then need I nothing more.

What pleaseth God, my faithful child,

Receive with joy; although the wild

And wintry wind thy heart appal,

Have faith, thee only can befal

What pleaseth God!

The will of God is aye the best,

In it we can so calmly rest;

Thyself to it anew resign,

And only seek to have as thine

What pleaseth God!

God's counsel is the only wise;

Soon comes to nought what men devise;

Their projects fall, fall out of use,

Oft mischief work, not oft produce

What pleaseth God!

God's mood is the most gracious mood,

To all intending, doing good;

He blesses, though hard words may speak

The wicked world, and never seek

What pleaseth God!

The truest heart is God's own heart,

Who bids our misery depart;

Who screens and shelters, day and night,

The man who makes his chief delight

What pleaseth God!

Ah! could I sing, as sing I would,

From out my heart, and ever should,

I'd ope my mouth—in Him rejoice,

This moment praise with heart and voice

What pleaseth God!

His counsel wise would I make known,

The works of wonder He hath done;

His saving grace, eternal pow'r,

That work producing every hour

What pleaseth God.

He rules above and rules below;

On Him hangs all our weal and woe;

He bears the world in His high hand,

For us brings forth the sea and land

What pleaseth God!

His hands the elements restrain;

His hands our mortal life sustain—

Give summer, winter, day, and night,

That evermore to do delight

What pleaseth God!

His host, the stars, the moon, and sun,

Their wonted courses ever run;

Corn, oil, and must, bread, wine, and beer,

The fruitful earth brings forth each year,

Which pleaseth God!

His understanding is all wise,

He knows—they are before his eyes,

Who evil think and evil do,

As well as who the good pursue

That pleaseth God!

His little flock to Him is dear;

When sinning they forsake His fear,

He chastens with His Father's rod,

Till they return and do the good

That pleaseth God!

What cheers and strengtheneth our heart

He knows, and ever doth impart

Whatever good each one requires,

Who seeks for good and aye desires

What pleaseth God!

Is't so? then let the world retain

What pleaseth her, and she deems gain;

But thou in God delighted be,

My heart! approve whate'er you see

That pleaseth God!

Let others then in haughty mood

Rejoice in stores of earthly good;

But thou the Cross with patience bear,

Contented if thou hast the share

That pleaseth God!

Dost live in sorrow, sunk in grief,

Hast much affliction—no relief?

Still murmur not, for thou dost bear

In this thy bitter life of care

What pleaseth God!

In suff'rings art thou doom'd to live?

Then to thy great Protector cleave;

The world and all the creatures too

Are under God, can only do

What pleaseth God!

Doth ev'ry one despise Thy name?

Do foes Thee scorn and treat with shame?

Be not cast down, for Christ will raise

Thy head, who seeth in thy ways

What pleaseth God!

Faith fastens on the Saviour's love

Works patience, hope that looks above;

Lock both within thy secret heart,

Thou'lt have as thine eternal part

What pleaseth God!

Thy part is in the Heav'nly throne,

There is thy sceptre, kingdom, crown;

There shalt thou taste, and hear, and see,

There shall for ever happen thee

What pleaseth God!

Look up to thy God again,

Soul, sunk in affliction!

Shall He be reproach'd by men

Through thy sore dejection?

Satan's wiles dost thou not see?

By severe temptation,

Gladly would he keep from thee

Jesu's consolation.

Shake thy head in scorn, and “flee,”

Bid the old deceiver—

“Wilt renew thy thrusts at me,

Me to fear deliver?

Serpent! bruis'd thy head I see;

Through His pain hath freed me

From thy grasp, my Lord, and He

To His joy will lead me.

“Dost thou charge my sin to me?

When did God command me

Judgment to require from thee?

Tell me, I demand thee!

Who did pow'r on thee bestow

Sentence to deliver?

Who thyself art sunk so low

In hell's flames for ever.”

What I have not done aright

Me with sorrow filleth,

But of Jesu's blood the sight

All mine anguish stilleth.

He the ransom price hath paid,

From the cross relieves me,

When before God's throne 'tis laid,

Inward joy He gives me.

In Christ's innocence I boast,

His right is my glory,

Mine His merit, there I trust

As in stronghold hoary,

That the rage of every foe

Evermore resisteth,

Though the might of hell below

It to storm assisteth.

Rage then, devil, and thou, death!

Ye can never hurt me;

In the trials of my path

Doth God's grace support me.

God His only Son to me,

Mov'd by love, hath given,

That to endless misery

I may not be driven.

Cry then, foolish world! amain,

That God lov'd me never,

That my cherish'd hope is vain,

Has deceiv'd me ever.

Had God been averse to me,

Would He have supported

All the gifts so rich and free

He to me imparted?

What is there in sky or sea,

What the wide earth over,

What that works no good for me,

Canst thou then discover?

Why do star so beauteously

Shine on us from Heaven?

Why are, but for good to me,

Air and water given?

Why do clouds their streams outpour?

Why do dews earth cover?

Why with verdure's cover'd o'er,

Why flow blessings over

Hill and valley, field and wood?

Truly for my pleasure,

That I dwell secure, and food

Have in plenteous measure.

My soul on God's word most dear

Feeds and liveth ever,

That all Christians love to hear

Daily, tiring never.

Soon and late my heart in me

God opes for receiving

Of the Spirit's grace that He

Is so freely giving.

Why through holy men of old

Have God's words been given?

That we by their light might hold

On our way to heaven,

My heart's darkness to dispel,

From doubt to deliver,

That the conscience sure and well,

Be establish'd ever.

Now upon this holy ground

Build I most securely,

See how hell's malicious hound,

Spends 'gainst me his fury.

He can never overthrow

What God hath upraisèd,

But what Satan's hand doth do

That shall be abasèd.

I am God's, and mine is God,

Who from Him can part me?

Tho' the cross with heavy load

Press on me and smart me.

Let it press—the hand of love

Hath the cross laid on me,

He the burden will remove,

When the good is done me.

Children whom aright to guide

Parents would endeavour,

Must the father often chide,

Or they'd prosper never.

If I'm then a child of grace,

Should I shun God ever,

When He from sin's devious ways,

Seeks me to deliver?

Gracious are the thoughts of God,

In the pain He's sending,

Who here weeps beneath the rod,

Reaps not woe unending,

But eternal joy shall taste

In Christ's garden dwelling,

That he shall be there at last,

Now assurance feeling.

Often God's own children here

Sow in tears and sadness,

But at length the long'd-for year

Comes of joy and gladness;

For the reaping time appears,

All their labours after,

When are turn'd their grief and tears

Into joy and laughter.

Christian heart! courageously

All the griefs that pain thee

Cast behind thee joyfully,

More and more sustain thee

Let sweet consolation's light;

Praise and honour give you

To the God of love and might,

He'll help and relieve you.

Be thou contented! aye relying

On thy God, who life is giving,

For He hath joys soul satisfying,

Wanting Him—in vain thy striving.

Thy Spring is He,

Thy Sun that ever

Rejoiceth thee,

And setteth never.

Be thou contented!

He lightens, comforts, and supports thee,

True in heart, by guile unstainèd;

When He is near nought ever hurts thee,

E'en when smitten sore and painèd.

Cross, need, and woe

He soon averteth,

O'er the last foe

His pow'r asserteth.

Be thou contented!

How it fareth with thee and others,

Truly none from Him concealeth,

He ever from on high discovers

Burden'd hearts, and for them feeleth.

Of weeping eyes

The tears He counteth,

The pile of sighs

'Fore Him high mounteth.

Be thou contented!

When not another on earth liveth,

To whom safe thou may'st confide thee,

He'll faithful prove, who ne'er deceiveth,

And to happiest end will guide thee.

The secret grief

Thy soul that boweth,

And when relief

To give, He knoweth.

Be thou contented!

The sighing of thy soul He ever,

And thy heart's deep plaint is hearing;

What to another thou wouldst never

Tell, reveal to God, ne'er fearing.

He is not far,

But standeth near thee,

Who poor men's pray'r

Marks, soon will hear thee.

Be thou contented!

To God cleave, He'll salvation show thee,

Let not anguish then depress thee;

Although devouring floods o'erflow thee,

Rise above it, He will bless thee.

When 'neath the load

Thy back low bendeth,

Thy Prince and God

Soon succour sendeth.

Be thou contented!

Why for thy life should care so grieve thee,

How to nourish and sustain it?

Thy God, who ever life doth give thee,

Will provide for and maintain it.

He hath a hand

With gifts o'erflowing,

On sea and land

For aye bestowing.

Be thou contented!

Who for the forest songsters careth,

To their daily portion leads them,

For sheep and ox enough prepareth,

Slakes their thirst, with plenty feeds them;

He'll care for thee,

Thee, lone one! filling,

So bounteously

Thy hunger stilling.

Be thou contented!

Say not, the means nowhere appeareth,

Where I seek, my effort faileth;

God this high name of honour beareth,

Helper, when no help availeth!

When thou and I

Fail to discover

Him, speedily

He'll us recover.

Be thou contented!

Although away thy help is staying,

He will not for ever leave thee;

Tho' anxious makes thee His delaying,

'Tis for thy greater good, believe me.

What on the way

To come ne'er hasteth,

Doth longer stay,

And sweeter tasteth.

Be thou contented!

Though 'gainst thee hosts of foes are scheming,

Let not all their lies affright thee;

Still let them rage against thee, deeming

God will hear it and will right thee.

Doth God support

Thee and thine ever?

The foe can hurt

Or ruin never.

Be thou contented!

To each his share of ill is given,

Would he only see and know it;

No course on earth so fair and even,

That no trouble lurks below it.

Who can declare,

“My house was ever

All free from care,

And troubled never?”

Be thou contented!

So must it be, in vain our grieving,

All men here must suffer ever,

Whate'er upon the earth is living,

Evil days avoideth never.

Affliction's blow

Doth oft depress us,

And lays us low,

And death then frees us.

Be thou contented!

A day will dawn of rest and blessing,

When our God will come and save us

From the vile body's bands depressing,

And the evils that enslave us.

Death soon will come,

From woe deliver,

And take us home

Then all together.

Be thou contented!

He'll bring us to the hosts in glory,

To the chosen and true-hearted,

Who when they clos'd this life's sad story,

Hence in peace to joy departed,

And on the shore,

The ever-vernal,

Hear evermore,

The voice eternal.

Be thou contented!

Is God for me? t'oppose me

A thousand may uprise;

When I to pray'r arouse me,

He'll chase mine enemies.

And doth the Head befriend me,

Am I belov'd by God?

Let foes then rise to rend me,

The wild opposing brood!

I know—from faith none moves me,

I boast—nor feel I shame,

That God as father loves me,

In Him, a friend I claim.

Whene'er the tempest rageth,

At my right hand is He,

Its violence assuageth,

And peace restores to me.

My faith securely buildeth

On Jesus, and His blood;

This, and this only, yieldeth

The true eternal good.

The life that my soul liveth,

Finds nothing on the earth;

What Christ the Saviour giveth

Of all our love is worth.

My Jesus is my Glory,

My Splendour, and clear Light,

Liv'd He not in and for me,

Before God's eye so bright,

And 'fore His pure throne never

Could I a moment stay,

Must quickly flee for ever,

As wax 'fore fire away.

My Jesus death subdueth,

My sin remitteth quite,

He washeth aad reneweth,

The crimson maketh white.

I joy in Him, can ever

A hero's courage feel,

And judgment fear dare never,

As though uncleansèd still.

Nought, nought, can e'er condemn me,

My courage take away;

Hell's flames can ne'er o'erwhelm me,

For me they're quench'd for aye.

No sentence e'er can move me,

No evil e'er deject,

My Saviour who doth love me,

Doth with His wings protect.

His Spirit in me dwelleth,

And ruleth every pow'r,

All pain and sorrow stilleth,

Dispels all clouds that low'r.

What He in me implanteth,

He blesseth every hour,

Help to say “Father” granteth,

With every ransom'd pow'r.

When heart with terror breaketh,

And weak and worn I feel,

Words whispers He and speaketh

That are unspeakable;

My mouth can frame them never,

To God they are well known,

Who what delights Him ever

Discovers in His own.

His Spirit mine relieveth

With words of comfort blest,

Shows how God succour giveth

To all who seek His rest;

And how a new and golden

Fair city rear'd hath He,

Which here from sight withholden,

My joyful eyes shall see.

My mansion's there so splendid,

Prepar'd in yonder land;

Though when my course is ended,

I fall—Heav'n still doth stand.

Though care here often saddens

And causeth tears to flow,

My Jesu's light oft gladdens

And sweetens every woe.

Whoe'er to Jesus bindeth

Himself, doth Satan hate,

He's troubled much and findeth

His burden sore and great;

To suffer scarce is able,

Disgrace and scorn he meets,

The cross and every trouble

As daily bread he eats.

My mind this clear perceiveth,

Yet am I undismay'd;

To Thee my heart aye cleaveth,

On Thee shall cares be laid.

Though life and limb it cost me

And everything I have,

Unshaken shall I trust Thee,

Thee never shall I leave.

The world may ruin shiver,

Thou liv'st eternally,

Nor sword nor flame shall ever

Divide 'twixt Thee and me.

No thirst nor gnawing hunger,

No pain nor poverty,

Nor mighty prince's anger

Shall ever hinder me.

No angel, nought that gladdens,

No throne nor majesty,

No love nor aught that saddens,

No grief nor misery,

Nor aught that man discovers,

Be it small or great,

From Thee, my heav'nly Lover's

Embrace can separate.

My heart with joy is springing,

And sad I cannot be,

'Tis full of joy and singing,

The sunshine doth it see.

The Sun that looks with pleasure

On me is Christ my King;

The glory beyond measure

That waits me, makes me sing.

Why should sorrow ever grieve me?

Christ is near,

What can here

E'er of Him deprive me?

Who can rob me of my heaven

That God's Son,

As mine own,

To my faith hath given?

Naked was I and unswathèd

When on earth

At my birth

My first breath I breathèd.

Naked hence shall I betake me,

When I go

From earth's woe,

And my breath forsake me.

Nought—not e'en the life I'm living,

Is mine own,

God alone

All to me is giving.

Must I then His own restore Him?

Though bereft

Of each gift

Still shall I adore Him.

Though a heavy cross I'm bearing,

And my heart

Feels the smart,

Shall I be despairing?

God can help me, who doth send it,

He doth know

All my woe

And how best to end it.

God oft gives me days of gladness,

Shall I grieve

If He give

Seasons too of sadness?

God is good, and tempers ever

Every hurt,

Me desert

Wholly can He never,

Though united world and devil,

All their pow'r

Can no more

Do than mock and cavil.

Let derision now employ them,

Christ e'en here

Will appear

And 'fore all destroy them.

True believers shrinking never,

Where they dwell

Should reveal

Their true colours ever.

When approaching death would scare them,

Still should they

Patient stay

And with courage bear them.

Death can never kill us even,

But relief

From all grief

To us then is given.

It doth close life's mournful story,

Make a way

That we may

Pass to heav'nly glory.

There I'll reap enduring pleasure,

After woe

Here below

Suffer'd in large measure.

Lasting good we find here never,

All the earth

Deemeth worth

Vanisheth for ever.

What is all this life possesseth?

But a hand

Fall of sand

That the heart distresseth.

Noble gifts that pall me never,

Christ so free

There gives me

To enjoy for ever.

Shepherd! Lord! joy's fountain ever,

Thou art mine,

I am Thine,

No one can us sever.

I am Thine, because Thou gavest

Life and blood

For my good,

By Thy death me savest.

Thou'rt mine, for I love and own Thee,

Ne'er shall I,

Light of joy,

From my heart dethrone Thee.

Let me, let me soon behold Thee

Face to face,

Thy embrace

May it soon enfold me!

I into God's own heart and mind

My heart and mind deliver,

What evil seems, a gain I find,

E'en death is life for ever.

I am His son,

Who spread the throne

Of heaven high above me.

Tho' I bend low

Beneath His blow,

Yet still His heart doth love me.

He ne'er can prove untrue to me,

My Father aye must love me,

And tho' He cast me in the sea,

He only thus would prove me;

In what He good

Doth count, He would

My heart establish ever.

And if I stand,

His mighty hand

Will raise me, and deliver.

Vain had my own pow'r ever been,

To have adorn'd or made me;

In soul and body God is seen,

He form'd and He array'd me,

Plac'd mind and wit

On the soul's seat,

And flesh and bones did give me.

Who thus so free

Supplieth me

Can ne'er mean to deceive me.

Say, where a place to lay my head,

On earth had I attainèd?

Long since had I been cold and dead

Had God not me sustainèd

With His strong arm,

That ever warm,

And glad and healthy maketh.

Whom He gives joy

May praise employ,

What He leaves, falls and breaketh.

Wisdom and understanding true

In Him are ever dwelling;

Time, place, to leave undone or do,

He knoweth, never failing.

He ever knows

When joys, when woes,

Are best for those He loveth.

What He doth here—

Tho' it appear

Ill—to be good aye proveth.

Thou think'st indeed, if thou hast not

What flesh and blood is yearning

To have, that trial mars thy lot,

Thy light to darkness turning.

Of toil and care

Thou hast large share,

Ere thou thy wish attainest,

And dost not see

Whatever thee

Befals, thereby thou gainest.

In truth, He who created thee,

His glory in thee showing,

Hath long ago in His decree

Determin'd—all foreknowing—

What good for thee

And thine will be,

In faithfulness he'll give it.

Curb thou thy will,

Wait! be thou still,

To His good pleasure leave it.

Whate'er to send, seems good to God,

'Twill be at last refreshing,

Altho' thou call'st it cross and load

'Tis fraught with richest blessing.

Wait patiently,

His grace to thee

He'll speedily discover.

All grief and fear

Shall disappear

Like mist the hills spread over.

The field, unless the storm rage high,

Its ripe fruits yieldeth never,

So men were ruin'd utterly

If all were prosp'rous ever.

Though health it gives,

And thus relieves,

The bitter aloe paineth;

So must the heart

With anguish smart,

Ere it to health attaineth.

My God! my God! into Thy hand

I joyfully now yield me,

Keep me, a stranger in the land,

E'en to the end, Lord! shield me.

Deal with me now

As well dost know,

That I may profit by it;

Then more and more

Thy glorious pow'r,

Lord! show, and magnify it.

Wilt cause Thy sun on me to shine,

With pleasure, Lord, I'll share it;

Should trial or mischance be mine,

Then patiently I'll bear it.

Of life the door

Should it before

Me open here stand ever,

Where Thou lead'st me,

I'll joyfully

Go with Thee, shrinking never.

Should I along the path of death,

Through the dark vale be treading,

'Tis well, 'tis the appointed path,

E'en there Thine eyes are leading.

My Shepherd! Thou

Art all below

To such an issue bringing,

That I to Thee,

Eternally,

Shall songs of praise be singing.

Commit whatever grieves thee

At heart, and all thy ways,

To Him who never leaves thee,

On whom creation stays.

Who freest courses maketh

For clouds, and air, and wind,

And care who ever taketh

A path for thee to find.

The Lord thou must repose on

If thou wouldst prosper sure,

His work must ever gaze on

If thine is to endure.

By anxious care and grieving,

By self-consuming pain,

God is not mov'd to giving;

By pray'r must thou obtain.

Thy grace that ever floweth,

O Father! what is good,

Or evil, ever knoweth,

To mortal flesh and blood.

What to Thine eye all-seeing,

And to Thy counsel wise

Seems good, doth into being,

O mighty Prince, arise!

For means it fails Thee never,

Thou always find'st a way,

Thy doing's blessing ever,

Thy path like brightest day.

Thy work can no one hinder,

Thy labour cannot rest,

If Thou design'st Thy tender

Children should be bless'd.

Though all the powers of evil

Should rise up to resist,

Without a doubt or cavil

God never will desist;

His undertakings ever

At length He carries through;

What He designs He never

Can fail at all to do.

Hope on, thou heart, grief-riven,

Hope, and courageous be,

Where anguish thee hath driven,

Thou shalt deliv'rance see.

God, from thy pit of sadness

Shall raise thee graciously;

Wait, and the sun of gladness

Thine eyes shall early see.

Up! up! to pain and anguish

A long good night now say;

Drive all that makes thee languish

In grief and woe away.

Thine 'tis not to endeavour

The ruler's part to play,

God sits as ruler ever,

Guides all things well each day.

Let Him alone—and tarry

He is a Prince all wise,

He shall Himself so carry,

'Twill strange seem in thine eyes,

When He as Him beseemeth,

In wonderful decree,

Shall as Himself good deemeth,

O'errule what grieveth thee.

He may awhile still staying

His comforts keep from thee,

And on His part delaying,

Seem to have utterly

Forgotten and forsaken

And put thee out of mind,

Though thou'rt by grief o'ertaken,

No time for thee to find.

But if thou never shrinkest,

And true dost still remain,

He'll come when least thou thinkest,

And set thee free again,

Thee from the load deliver,

That burdeneth thy heart,

That thou hast carried never

For any evil part.

Hail! child of faith, who gainest

The victory alway,

Who honour's crown obtainest,

That never fades away.

God in thy hand will give thee,

One day, the glorious palm;

Who ne'er in grief did leave thee,

To Him thou'lt sing thy psalm.

O Lord no longer lengthen

Our time of misery,

Our hands and feet now strengthen,

And until death may we

By Thee be watched and car'd for,

In faithfulness and love,

So come we where prepar'd for

Us is our bless'd abode.

Thou must not altogether be

O'ercome by sad vexation,

God soon will cause to shine on thee

The light of consolation.

In patience wait, and be thou still,

And let the Lord do what He will,

He never can do evil.

Is this the first time we have known

And tasted sore affliction?

What have we had but grief alone

On earth, and sore dejection?

We've had an ample share of grief,

Yet God hath sometimes sent relief,

A respite brief of gladness.

Not so doth God our Father mean,

When His afflictions grieve us,

That no more shall His face be seen

That He'll for ever leave us;

His purposes quite other are,

That those who from Him wander far

By trial be recover'd.

It is our nature's evil mood

That when in joys we're living,

We then forsake our highest good,

Ourselves to license giving.

We earthly are, and deem more worth

The things and pleasures of the earth,

Than all that dwells in heaven.

God therefore all our joys doth blight,

Lets trials overtake us,

Takes that wherein our hearts delight,

Look up to Him to make us,

That to His goodness and His pow'r,

That we've neglected heretofore,

We may return as children.

When we return to Him again

He graciously receives us,

To joy He turns our every pain,

To laughter turns what grieves us;

To Him it is a simple art,

He soon doth help to him impart

Whom He with love embraceth.

Afflicted band! oh, fall ye now

With contrite hearts before Him,

Tell Him that ye in homage bow

To His great name; implore Him

In grace your sins to take away,

The load He on your backs did lay

To bear, your wounds to bind up.

Grace always before right must go,

And wrath to love yield ever;

His merest mercy, when we low

Are lying, must deliver.

His hand it is upholds us all,

If we let go, then break and fall

Must all our work to pieces.

On God's love must thou ever stay,

Nor let aught overthrow thee,

E'en when the heav'ns shall pass away

And earth shall crash below thee:

God promiseth His grace to thee,

His word is clear, who fearlessly

Trusts it, is ne'er deceivèd.

So darest thou His pow'r so great

Ne'er doubt a moment even,

Who is it that doth all create,—

By whom all gifts are given?

God doth it, and His counsel wise

Can ever ways and means devise,

When every man despaireth.

Seems help impossible to thee?

This should'st thou know however,

God by our narrow thoughts can be

Hemm'd and confinèd never,

This ne'er to us alloweth He;

He everywhere,—His arm is free,—

Doth more than we can fathom.

What is His wide dominion fair?

'Tis full of varied wonder;

He helpeth us when dark despair

We helplessly sink under,

To His great name this is the praise,

If thou wilt see His holy place,

Thou must ascribe for ever.

How long, Lord, in forgetfulness

And darkness wilt Thou leave me?

How long will sorrow on me press

And deep heart-anguish grieve me?

Wilt Thou Thy face, Lord, utterly

Turn from me? wilt ne'er look on me

In grace and in compassion?

How long shall I, thy stricken child,

Bereft of soul-rest languish?

How long shall storm and wind so wild,

Fill heart with fear and anguish?

How long shall my proud enemy,

Who only meaneth ill to me,

Exult o'er me in triumph?

Ah! look on me, my Shield and Lord!

Down from Thy holy heaven,

And hear now my complaining word,

My pray'r from heart grief-riven.

Give to mine eyes, Lord, pow'r and might,

And do not let death's gloomy night

So speedily o'ertake me.

For then, Lord, ev'ry enemy

Would never cease to glory,

And were I prostrate utterly,

Would ever triumph o'er me.

“There lieth he,” they'd cry in joy,

“Who caus'd us evermore annoy,

He's prostrate and ne'er riseth.”

I know them, and I know fall well

The wickedness they're planning,

Their hearts with ev'ry evil swell,

No good them e'er restraining.

But Thou, the faithful One, Lord, art,

And those who choose Thee for their part,

Thou nevermore forsakest.

My soul doth calmly trust in Thee,

Thou true to me remainest,

Of malice and of subtlety

The course, with pow'r restrainest.

This makes my heart with joy o'erflow,

That willingly dost Thou bestow

Salvation on the trusting.

O Lord! for aye I'll trust in Thee,

Thou'rt my sole joy for ever;

Thou doest well, protectest me,

From sorrow dost deliver.

And therefore I my whole life long,

Will sing Thee oft a gladsome song

Of praise and of thanksgiving.