1 In anger, Lord, do not chastise,
Withdraw the dreadful storm;
Nor let thine awful wrath arise
Against a feeble worm.
2 My soul bow'd down with heavy cares,
My flesh with pain oppress'd;
My couch is witness to my tears,
My tears forbid my rest.
3 Sorrow and grief wear out my days;
I waste the night with cries,
And count the minutes as they pass,
'Till the slow morning rise.
4 Shall I be still tormented more?
My eyes consum'd with grief:
How long, my God, how long, before
Thine hand afford relief?
5 He hears his mourning children speak,
He pities all our groans;
And saves us for his mercy’s sake,
And heals our broken bones.
6 The virtue of his sovereign word,
Restores our fainting breath;
For silent graves praise not the Lord,
Nor is he known in death.
|First Line:||In anger, Lord, do not chastise|
|Topic:||Complaint in Sickness|