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1 Father! I bless thy gentle hand;
How kind was thy chastising rod,
That forc'd my conscience to a stand,
And brought my wand'ring soul to God!
2 Foolish and vain I went astray
Ere I had felt thy scourges, Lord!
I left my guide, and lost my way;
But now I love and keep thy word.
3 'Tis good for me to wear the yoke,
For pride is apt to rise and swell;
'Tis good to bear my Father's stroke,
That I might learn his statutes well.
4 The Law, that issues from thy mouth,
Shall raise my cheerful passions more
Than all the treasures of the south,
Or western hills of golden ore.
5 Thy hands have made my mortal frame,
Thy Spirit form'd my soul within;
Teach me to know thy wondrous name,
And guard me safe from death and sin.
6 Then all that love and fear the Lord,
At my salvation shall rejoice;
For I have trusted in thy word,
And made thy grace my only choice.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Father! I bless thy gentle hand |
Meter: | L. M. |
Publication Date: | 1828 |
Topic: | Christian experience: A voyage; Sanctified Affliction |