1 Jesus, the patient's surest friend,
Will ever to his case attend;
He was in all, like man distress'd,
And bore the curse to make us bless'd.
2 In all afflictions we must bear,
We are the objects of his care;
Tho' we are made to feel the rod,
It is to draw us nearer God.
3 Sure we have reason to believe,
He knows the time when to relieve;
When to remove distress and pain,
And to restore our health again.
4 He guards us with his watchful eye,
While we do live, and when we die;
His word and promises are sure,
Nor can thy fail for ever more.
5 If thus the Sons of God we be,
We must not seek from him to flee,
When his afflicting hand we feel,
We must submit unto his will.
6 What tho' we suffer for a while,
Distress, and grief, and pain, and toil:
Since ev'ry rod and ev'ry smart,
Is to remorse the hard'ned heart.
7 Then ye distress'd be not afraid,
Nor let your minds be so dismay'd;
Christ your physician makes you whole,
Can cure the body and the soul.
Source: Church Hymn Book: consisting of newly composed hymns with the addition of hymns and psalms, from other authors, carefully adapted for the use of public worship, and many other occasions (1st ed.) #CCX