Cottage Poems - LightNovelsOnl.com
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VII.
Through sickness and pain I flee to my Lord, Sweet comfort to gain, And health from His word; Bleak scarcities raise A keener desire, To feed on His grace, And wear His attire.
VIII.
The trials which frown, Applied by His blood, But plait me a crown, And work for my good.
In praise I shall tell, When throned in my rest, The things which befell Were always the best.
IX.
Whatever is hid Shall burst on my sight When hence I have fled To glorious light.
Should chastis.e.m.e.nts lower, Then let me resign; Should kindnesses shower, Let grat.i.tude s.h.i.+ne.
X.
Hence! Sorrow and Fear!
Since Jesus is nigh, I'll dry up each tear, And stifle each sigh: And clothed in His word Will conquer my foes, And follow my Lord Wherever He goes.
XI.
My friends! let us fly To Jesus our King; And still as we hie, Of grace let us sing.
Through pleasure and pain, If faithful we prove, For cots we shall gain A palace above.
FINIS.
