Complaint in sickness; or, diseases healed.
1 In anger, Lord, rebuke me not,
Withdraw the dreadful storm;
Nor let thy fury grow so hot
Against a feeble worm.
2 My soul's bow'd down with heavy cares,
My flesh with pain oppress'd;
My couch is witness to my tears,
My tears forbid my rest.
3 Sorrow and pain wear out my days;
I waste the night with cries,
Counting the minutes as they pass,
Till the slow morning rise.
4 Shall I be still tormented more?
Mine eye consum'd with grief?
How long, my God, how long before
Thine hand afford relief?
5 He hears when dust and ashes speak,
He pities all our groans,
He saves us for his mercy's sake
And heals our broken bones.
6 The virtue of his sovereign word
Restores our fainting breath;
For silent graves praise not the Lord,
Nor is he known in death.
Temptations in sickness overcome.
Lord, I can suffer thy rebukes,
When thou with kindness dost chastise;
But thy fierce wrath I cannot bear:
O let it not against me rise.
Pity my languishing estate,
And ease the sorrows that I feel;
The wounds thine heavy hand hath made,
O let thy gentler touches heal!
See how I pass my weary days
In sighs and groans; and when 'tis night
My bed is watered with my tears;
My grief consumes, and dims my sight.
Look, how the powers of nature mourn!
How long, Almighty God, how long?
When shall thine hour of grace return?
When shall I make thy grace my song?
I feel my flesh so near the grave,
My thoughts are tempted to despair;
But graves can never praise the Lord,
For all is dust and silence there.
Depart, ye tempters, from my soul,
And all despairing thoughts, depart;
My God, who hears my humble moan,
Will ease my flesh, and cheer my heart.