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82a. Sick-bed devotion; or, Pleading without repining

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 I'm but a stranger here below,
As all my fathers were;
May I be well prepar'd to go,
When I the summons hear!

6 But if my life be spar'd a while
Before my last remove,
Thy praise shall be my bus'ness still,
And I'll declare thy love.

Text Information
First Line: God of my life, look gently down
Title: Sick-bed devotion; or, Pleading without repining
Meter: Common Metre
Language: English
Publication Date: 1791
Scripture:
Notes: Public Domain.
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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