Deliverance from Common Sickness.
“It hath pleased Thee—to asswage the contagious sickness, and
restore the voice of joy and health in our dwellings.”
—Prayer Book.
A faculty there seems in eye and ear,
From whence pure grace and harmony are known
Without it, vast creation would appear
Devoid of beauty and deprived of tone.
And, as Proportion gives our taste a law
So, moral Sense must human action guide;—
Such was the truth each wiser heathen saw
Long ere the earth beheld the Crucified!
But, when we view Thine everlasting Cross,
Lord of this ruined world, by grace redeemed,
And strive to fathom our immortal loss
Had never thence atoning life-blood stream'd,
Reason and conscience are alike o'ercome
By such transcendencies of Love Divine;
O'er the dread Scene our faith and feeling roam,
And cry in wonder,—“All the Work is Thine!”
And now, when sickness, with contagious ire,
The blight consuming and the blast of pain
Have all subsided, and our homes respire
The pangless airs of perfect health again,
No trains funereal through our streets are led,
And dwellings, once where blinded windows told
Big tears were dropping o'er some anguished bed,—
Rejoicing inmates in their chambers hold.
God of pure goodness! may such pard'ning love
Be to our souls a ladder, whence to rise
On steps of mercy, till we pause above,
And worship Jesus with adoring eyes!
In the bright Easter of this blessed hour
Each lauding sacrifice thy Church would bring,
To Thee, by gentleness,
and not by power
Throned in the heart, as Man's Incarnate King.
