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1 God of my Life, look gently down,
Behold the Pains I feel.
But I am dumb before thy Throne,
Nor dare dispute thy Will.
2 Diseases are thy Servants, Lord,
They come at thy Command;
I'll not attempt a murm'ring Word,
Against thy chast'ning Hand.
3 Yet I may plead with humble Cries,
Remove thy sharp Rebukes;
My Strength consumes, my Spirit dies,
Through thy repeated Strokes.
4 Crush'd as a Moth beneath thy Hand,
We moulder to the Dust;
Our feeble Pow'rs can ne'er withstand,
And all our beauty's lost.
[5 This mortal Life decays apace,
How soon the Bubble's broke!
Adam and all his num'rous Race
Are Vanity and Smoke.]
6 I'm but a sojourner below,
As all my Father's were;
May I be well prepar'd to go,
When I the Summons hear.
7 But if my Life be spar'd a while,
Before my last remove,
Thy Praise shall be my Buis'ness still,
And I'll declare thy Love.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | God of my Life, look gently down |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Topic: | Penitential Hymns; liturgical: Confession Songs |