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Text:God Appointeth Affliction

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)



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