To triumph o'er the monster, Death, 2 Joyful with all the strength I have, 3 If sin be pardoned, I'm secure; The law gives sin its damning power; 4 Now to the God of victory Immortal thanks be paid, Who makes us conquerors while we die, Christian Submission 1 O LORD, I would delight in thee, To thee in every trouble flee, 2 When all created streams are dried, Thy fulness is the same; May I with this be satisfied, 3 Why should the soul a drop bemoan, Who has a fountain near, A fountain which shall ever run, 4 No good in creatures can be found I must have all things, and abound, 5 0! that I had a stronger faith To credit what my Saviour saith, 6 He who has made my heaven secure, 7 O Lord, I cast my care on thee, Henceforth my great concern shall be, 1 SUBMISSIVE to thy will, my God, I all to thee resign, And bow before thy chastening rod; 2 Why should my foolish heart complain, 3 How short are all my sufferings here, Nor call my gain my loss. 4 Then give, dear Lord, or take away Casting our Care on the Lord. 1 WHEN struggling on the bed of pain, And earth and all its joys are vain, How sweet, my God, to know thy power 2 How rich and precious sounds that love, That tells of rest and joys above, And lulls my troubled heart to rest, 3 There, still while life's warm currents rush, For light and life and peace are there. 4 Helper and Hope thou ever art, To heal the wounded, broken heart; 5 Then shall my cheerful, grateful tongue |