And shall a sinful worm complain
Of weary days and nights of pain?
Dare I arraign the will of God,
Who bought me with His precious blood?
Are not my times within His hand?
Are not these pains at His command ?
Do I not hear Him sweetly say,
Strength shall be given as thy day?
O may these light afflictions prove
Means to increase my faith and love;
And may I meekly bear the cross,
In mercy sent to purge my dross.
Am I not His, His purchas'd one,
A burning brand from Satan won?
Have I a grief He does not share?
A pang He helps me not to bear?
Oh no! Immanuel guards my bed,
His arm of love supports my head;
Like John, I lean upon His breast,
And find in Him a perfect rest.
Cast down, but not destroyed, I bless the hand,
My Father's hand, which strengthens while it strikes ;
And should the furnace rage with seven-fold heat,
My Father's even there! Mighty the waves,
But mightier He above, who calms the storm.
Dark and mysterious the pilgrim's way,
But, lo! the Sun of Righteousness shines forth,
And cheers my soul with healing on His beams.
I know the voice which called me from the world,
And in the chambers of affliction taught
Eternal truths on which I love to dwell.
The school of suffering is the school of light;
'Tis here I learn to trample on the world,
And justly estimate all earthly good;
'Tis here each hour informs me I must die,
Whilst here Thy word assures me I shall live-
Live, when this world's enwrapt in flaming fire,
And all its transient glories pass away.
In suffering, be Thy love my peace,
In weakness, be Thy love my power;
And when the storms of life shall cease,
Jesus, in that momentous hour,
In death as life, be Thou my guide,
And save me, who for me bast died!
While with my lips that love I own,
Still, still to me so richly shewn,
Why should the tears of anguish flow,
And hope yet faint and fainter grow?
How truly should I still be blest,
Could I on Thee, my Saviour, rest
My anxious heart, my aching head,
When trials come, and health has fled;
O that I could my course pursue,
Thy bright example aye in view;
With a still grateful cheerful mind,
To all my Father's will resign'd.
Teach me, O teach me thus, each day,
In spirit and in truth to pray ;
For did I rightly seek relief,
With a firm hope, a sure belief,
I know I should not seek in vain
Whate'er I ask'd in Thy great name!
"THOUGHTS OF PEACE,"
Arise, O Sun of Righteousness, and shine,
With beams benignant on Thy sorrowing child;
Long have I lain beneath Thy chast'ning hand,
This poor enfeebled body rack'd with pain,
And enervated every mental power:
I mourn, but murmur not; O God, Thou knowest
I would not murmur at Thy righteous will,
For what Thou dost is best, and well I know,
Had I the punishment my sins deserve,
The portion of the lost had now been mine.
I know that Thou afflictest me in love;
Then let me welcome what that love directs,
Adore and bless the hand that wounds to heal;
Mount on the wings of faith sublime, and see
My God, my Saviour, on His glorious throne,
Pleading my cause before His Father's face;
An all-prevailing plea, which must bring down
Blessings unnumbered on His suffering child.
Soon shall these prayers and sighs be turned to praise,
And I shall see my Saviour as He is,
And dwell for ever on His matchless love,
Which ever telling will remain untold.
When pining sickness wastes the frame,
Acute disease, or lingering pain;
When life fast spends her feeble flame,
And all the help of man is vain ;
Then, then to have recourse to God,
To pray to Him in time of need;
And feel the balm of Jesus' blood,—
This is to find a friend indeed.
And such, my soul, thy happy lot,
Thy Saviour marks thy falt'ring breath,
Nor will He leave thee, doubt Him not,
In pain, in sickness, or in death.
Shouldst thou a moment's absence mourn,
Should some short darkness intervene
He'll give thee power, till light return,
To trust Him with the cloud between.
Art thou a sinner, soul? He said
Then how canst thou complain?
How light thy troubles here, if weighed
With everlasting pain!
If thou of murmuring would'st be cured,
Compare thy griefs with mine!
Think what my love for thee endured,
And thou wilt not repine.
'Tis I appoint thy daily lot,
And I do all things well;
Thou soon shalt leave this wretched spot,
And rise with me to dwell.
In life my grace shall strength supply
Proportioned to thy day;
At death thou still shalt find me nigh,
To wipe thy tears away!
Help me, my Father, to resign
My every wish, my will to Thine
OI would bless Thy chast'ning hand,
Which draws my heart from this fair land,
Where all that's lovely fades so fast,
Whose purest pleasures cannot last,
And all in vain we try to find
Aught that can soothe an aching mind.—
Yes, Thou wilt hear my earnest prayer,
And give me strength Thy will to bear ;
Look on my pain, forgive my sin,
And grant me hope and peace within.
"THOUGHTS OF PEACE."
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