Verse 1
Cease, foolish heart, thy fond complaints,
Nor heave with unavailing sighs,
Equal is God to all thy wants,
The hungry soul himself supplies.
Gladly thy every wish resign;
Thou canst not want, if God is thine.
Verse 2
Stop this full current of thy tears,
Or pour for sin th’ ennobled flood:
Look up, my soul, shake off thy fears,
Or fear to lose a gracious God:
To him, thy only rest, return;
In vain for him thou canst not mourn.
Verse 3
Still vex’d and troubled is my heart?
Still wails my soul the penal loss?
Ling’ring I groan with all to part,
I groan to bear the grievous cross;
The grievous cross I fain would fly,
Or sink beneath its weight, and die.
Verse 4
Sad soothing thought! To lose my cares,
And silently resign my breath!
Cut off a length of wretched years,
And steal an unsuspected death;
Now to lay down my weary head,
And lift it—free among the dead!
Verse 5
When will the dear deliv’rance come?
Period of all my pain and strife!
O that my soul, which gasps for home,
Which struggles in the toils of life,
Ease, and a resting place could find,
And leave this world of woe behind!
Verse 6
O that the bitterness were past,
The pain of life’s long ling’ring hour!
While snatch’d from passion’s furious blast,
And sav’d from sorrow’s baleful pow’r,
I mock the storm, out-ride the wave,
And gain the harbour of the grave.
Verse 7
Bless’d, peaceful state! Where, lull’d to sleep,
The suff’rer’s woes shall all be o’er!
There plaintive grief no more shall weep,
Remembrance there shall vex no more;
Nor fond excess, nor pining care,
Nor loss, nor parting shall be there!