4.
“He is chastened also with pain upon his bed, and the multitude
of his bones with strong pain.”
Such was the dying bed Thou didst sustain,
That mind or body found no place of ease,
While mockery stood by, and fierce disdain:
But us 'mid all our sins, if Thou should'st please
To lay at death's dark portal, while disease
Doth drop by drop our ebbing life-blood drain,
Thou sett'st around us tender offices,
And makest soft with love the bed of pain,
While watchers which about us gently stir
Are taught by Thee; and e'en far more than those,
Thou art Thyself our very Comforter;
From that our pillow of desired repose
Thou tak'st the thorns, and for Thine own dost wear,
Laying Thine Head upon their piercing throes.
