1 Dear Lord, though bitter is the cup,
Thy gracious hand pours out to me,
I cheerfully will drink it up,
That cannot hurt which comes from thee.
2 'Tis fill'd with thine unchanging love,
And not a drop of wrath is there;
The saints for ever bless'd above,
Were often most afflicted here.
3 From Jesus, thy incarnate Son,
I'll learn obedience to thy will;
And humbly kiss the chast'ning rod,
When its severest strokes I feel.
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | Dear Lord, though bitter is the cup |
| Title: | Patience from an assurance of divine love |
| Meter: | L. M. |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1799 |
| Topic: | Patience |
| Notes: | Public Domain. |