The Book of Worship ‎#39

39. God Appointeth Affliction

1 Not from relentless fate's dark womb,
Or from the dust our troubles come.
No fickle chance presides o'er grief,
To cause the pain, or send relief.

2 Look up, and see, ye sorrowing saints!
The cause and cure of your complaints:
Know, 'tis your heavenly Father's will:
Bid every murmur then be still.

3 He sees, we need the painful yoke;
Yet love directs His heaviest stroke.
He takes no pleasure in our smart,
But wounds to heal and cheer the heart.

4 Blest trials those that cleanse from sin,
And make the soul all pure within,
Wean the fond mind from earthly toys,
To seek and taste celestial joys!

Text Information

• First Line: Not from relentless fate's dakr womb
• Title: God Appointeth Affliction
• Meter: L. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1867
• Topic: God the Father: Providence
• Notes: Public Domain.

Tune Information

(No tune information)