1 O Lord what'er disease invades
This trembling house of clay,
'Tis sweet to look beyond my pains
And long to soar away.
2 Sweet to look inward and attend
The whispers of Thy love;
Sweet to look upward to the place
Were Jesus pleads above.
3 Sweet to look back, and see my name
In Life's fair book set down;
Sweet to look forward, and behold
Eternal joys my own.
4 Sweet in Thy faithfulness to rest,
Whose love can never end;
Sweet on Thy covenant of grace
For all things to depend.
5 If such the sweetness of the streams,
What must the fountain be,
Where saints and angels draw their bliss
Immediately from Thee?
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | O Lord, whate'er disease invades |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1868 |