73. Not from relentless fate's dark womb

1 Not from relentless fate's dark womb,
Or from the dust, our troubles come.
No fickle chance presides o'er grief,
To cause the pain, or send relief.

2 Look up, and see, ye sorrowing saints!
The cause and cure of your complaints.
Know, 'tis your heav'nly father's will:
Bid ev'ry murmur then be still.

3 He sees, we need the painful yoke;
Yet love directs his heaviest stroke.
He takes no pleasure in our smart,
But wounds to heal and cheer the heart.

4 Blest trials those that cleanse from sin,
And make the soul all pure within,
Wean the fond mind from earthly toys,
To seek and taste celestial joys!

Text Information
First Line: Not from relentless fate's dark womb
Meter: L. M.
Publication Date: 1828
Topic: God appointeth afflictions; Providence of God
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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