 | Songs for Sufferers |  |
17
MY BLESSINGS.
God's foremost gifts are just my hourly trials,
So friendly, so familiar, and so dear,
The sovereign Mercy that seems not to hear;
Withdrawals of my strength, the fond denials
Which only prove that then He is most near,
For I am never tempted, in His hour
Of chastening kindness, beyond my small power.
So friendly, so familiar, and so dear,
The sovereign Mercy that seems not to hear;
Withdrawals of my strength, the fond denials
Which only prove that then He is most near,
For I am never tempted, in His hour
Of chastening kindness, beyond my small power.
For with the stroke He comes Himself as Victim,
And lieth on the altar He hath made,
So for the brightness I see not the shade;
My very scourges yet the most afflict Him,
Departing treasures into glory fade.
I stand on Love, where I have ever stood,
For all my ills are with His Presence good.
And lieth on the altar He hath made,
So for the brightness I see not the shade;
My very scourges yet the most afflict Him,
Departing treasures into glory fade.
I stand on Love, where I have ever stood,
For all my ills are with His Presence good.
Are seasons dark and dreadful? In the weather
He reigns and rules, and with His blessing thrilled
I trace in clouds the sunshine He hath willed;
For God with both is somehow linked together,
And in whatever happens is fulfilled.
The medicine that I shrink from bears His balm,
And in the tortured flesh He is sweet calm.
He reigns and rules, and with His blessing thrilled
I trace in clouds the sunshine He hath willed;
For God with both is somehow linked together,
And in whatever happens is fulfilled.
The medicine that I shrink from bears His balm,
And in the tortured flesh He is sweet calm.
| Songs for Sufferers | |