1 Lord! I am pain'd; but I resign
My body to thy will;
'Tis grace, 'tis wisdom all divine
Appoints the pains I feel.

2 Dark are the ways of providence,
When those who love thee groan:
The reasons lie conceal'd from sense,
Mysterious and unknown.

3 Yet nature may have leave to speak,
And plead before her God,
Lest the o'er burden'd heart should break
Beneath thine heavy rod.

4 The mournful groans and flowing tears,
Give my poor spirit ease;
While every groan my Father hears;
And every tear he sees.

5 Is not some smiling hour at hand,
With peace upon its wings;
Give it, O God thy swift command,
With all the joys it brings!