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And day by day,
My cup can say
My wine is mix'd with weeping.
My cup can say
My wine is mix'd with weeping.
Thou dost my bread
With ashes knead
Each evening and each morrow;
Mine eye and ear
Do see and hear
The coming in of sorrow.
With ashes knead
Each evening and each morrow;
Mine eye and ear
Do see and hear
The coming in of sorrow.
Thy scourge of steel,
Ah me! I feel
Upon me beating ever:
While my sick heart
With dismal smart
Is disacquainted never.
Ah me! I feel
Upon me beating ever:
While my sick heart
With dismal smart
Is disacquainted never.
Long, long, I'm sure,
This can't endure,
But in short time 'twill please Thee,
My gentle God,
To burn the rod,
Or strike so as to ease me.
This can't endure,
But in short time 'twill please Thee,
My gentle God,
To burn the rod,
Or strike so as to ease me.
57. PATIENCE: OR, COMFORTS IN CROSSES.
Abundant plagues I late have had,
Yet none of these have made me sad:
For why? My Saviour with the sense
Of suff'ring gives me patience.
Yet none of these have made me sad:
For why? My Saviour with the sense
Of suff'ring gives me patience.
