PSALM 6. (C. M.) Complaint in Sickness; or, Diseases healed.
I
In anger, Lord, rebuke me not,
Withdraw the dreadful storm;
Nor let thy fury grow so hot
Against a feeble worm.
II
My soul's bow'd down with heavy cares,
My flesh with pain opprest;
My couch is witness to my tears,
My tears forbid my rest.
III
Sorrow and pain wear out my days;
I waste the night with cries,
Counting the minutes as they pass,
Till the slow morning rise.
IV
Shall I be still tormented more?
Mine eye consum'd with grief?
How long, my God, how long before
Thine hand afford relief?
V
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.
VI
The virtue of his sovereign word
Restores our fainting breath;
For silent graves praise not the Lord,
Nor is he known in death.
Vexation by personal enemies is not a constant attendant of sickness;
therefore in this version, I have omitted it as a peculiar circumstance
of David's. In the next version I have changed these
enemies for temptations and despairing thoughts.
The fifth verse of this psalm, which is a plea in the prayer, may
be naturally transposed to the end, as a ground of praise.
