With filial love and trust to say,
O God, thy will be done!

2 We in these sacred words can find
A cure for every ill;

They calm and soothe the troubled mind,
And bid all care be still.

3 0, let that will, which gave me breath.
And an immortal soul,

In joy or grief, in life or death,
My every wish control.

4 O, teach my heart the blesséd way
To imitate thy Son!

Teach me, O God, in truth to pray,
"Thy will, not mine, be done."

Blessedness of Submission in Trials.

1 WHEN I can trust my all with God,
In trial's fearful hour,

Bow, all resigned, beneath his rod,
And bless his sparing power,
A joy springs up amid distress,
A fountain in the wilderness.
2 O, blesséd be the hand that gave,
Still blessed when it takes ;
Blessed be he who smites to save,

Who heals the heart he breaks :

CONDER.

Perfect and true are all his ways,
Whom heaven adores and death obeys.

Contentment and Resignation.

1 IF solid happiness we prize,

Within our breasts the jewel lies;

Nor need we roam abroad:

COTTON.

The world has little to bestow;

From well formed hearts our joys must flow,
Hearts that delight in God.

2 Then let us, with a grateful mind,
Take what our Father, ever kind,
Doth graciously bestow;

The blessings which he sends, enjoy,
And in his praise find sweet employ,
From whom our comforts flow.

3 To be resigned, when ills betide,
Patient, when favors are denied,
And pleased with favors given;
This is the wise, the virtuous part:
This is that incense of the heart,

Whose fragrance reaches heaven.

4 Thus through life's changing scenes we'll go,
Its checkered paths of joy and woe
With holy care we 'll tread;
Quit its vain scenes without a tear,
Without a trouble or a fear,

And mingle with the dead.

5 For conscience, like a faithful friend,
Shall through the gloomy vale attend,
And cheer our dying breath;

Shall, when all other comforts cease,
Like a kind angel, whisper peace,
And smooth the bed of death.

455.

S. M.

Affliction Blessed.

SACRED SONGS.

1 HOW tender is thy hand,
O thou most gracious Lord!
Afflictions come at thy command,
And leave us at thy word.

2 How gentle was the rod,
That chastened us for sin !

How soon we found a gracious God,
Where deep distress had been!

3 A Father's hand we felt,

A Father's heart we knew;
'Mid tears of penitence we knelt,
And found his word was true.

4 Now we will bless the Lord,
And in his strength confide;
For ever be his name adored,
For there is none beside.

The Benefit of Affliction.

1 O GOD, to thee my sinking soul
In deep distress doth fly;

Thy love can all my griefs control,
And all my wants supply.

ANONYMOUS.

2 How oft, when dark misfortune's band
Around their victim stood,
The seeming ill, at thy command,
Hath changed to real good!

3 The tempest that obscured the sky
Hath set my bosom free

From earthly care and sensual joy,
And turned my thoughts to thee.

4 Affliction's blast hath made me learn
To feel for others' woe,

And humbly seek, with deep concern,
My own defects to know.

5 Then rage, ye storms; ye billows, roar ;
My heart defies your shock;

Ye make me cling to God the more,
To God, my sheltering Rock.

457.

8s. M.

Our Salvation in Trouble.

BATH COLL.

1 O THOU whose compassionate care
Forbids my sad heart to complain,
Now graciously teach me to bear
The weight of affliction and pain.
2 Though cheerless my days seem to flow,
Though weary and wakeful my nights,
What comfort it gives me to know

'T is the hand of a Father that smites!

3 A tender physician thou art,

Who woundest in order to heal,
And comfort divine dost impart
To soften the anguish we feel.

4 O, let this correction be blest,
And answer thy gracious design;

Then grant that my soul may find rest

In comforts so healing as thine.

458.

C. M.

Asking Mercy in Affliction.

EDMESTON.

1 O THOU whose mercy guides my way,

Though now it seem severe,

Forbid my unbelief to say

There is no mercy here.

2 O, grant me to desire the pain
That comes in kindness down,
More than the world's alluring gain
Succeeded by a frown.

3 Then, though thou how my spirit low,
Love only shall I see ;

A Father's hand directs the blow,
In mercy chastens me.

"Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” 1 THOUGH sorrows rise and dangers roll In waves of darkness o'er my soul; Though friends are false, and love decays, And few and evil are my days;

Yet e'en in nature's utmost ill,

I'll love thee, Lord, I'll love thee still.
2 Though conscience, fiercest of my foes,
Swells with remembered guilt my woes;
And memory points, with busy pain,
To grace and mercy given in vain ;
Though every thought has power to kill,
I'll love thee, Lord, I'll love thee still.
3 O, by the woes Messiah bore,

And in his griefs was loved the more;
By these my pangs, whose healing smart
Thy grace hath planted in my heart;
I know, I feel, thy gracious will,

HEBER.

Thou lov'st me, Lord, thou lov'st me still.

460.

C. M.

"Thy Will be done."

PERCY CHAPEL COLL.

1 FATHER, I know thy ways are just,
Although to me unknown;

O, grant me grace thy love to trust,

And cry, "Thy will be done."

2 If thou shouldst hedge with thorns my path,
Should wealth and friends be gone,

Still, with a firm and lively faith,
I'll cry, "Thy will be done."

3 Although thy steps I cannot trace,
Thy sovereign right I'll own;
And, as instructed by thy grace,
I'll cry, "Thy will be done."