Recovery from sickness.
I love the Lord; he heard my cries,
And pity’d every groan:
Long as I live, when troubles rise,
I’ll hasten to his throne.
I love the Lord; he bow’d his ear,
And chas’d my griefs away;
O let my heart no more despair,
While I have breath to pray!
My flesh declin’d, my spirits fell,
And I drew near the dead,
While inward pangs, and fears of hell
Perplex’d my wakeful head.
“My God,” I cry’d “thy servant save,
“Thou ever good and just;
“Thy power can rescue from the grave,
“Thy power is all my trust.”
The Lord beheld me sore distrest,
He bid my pains remove:
Return, my soul, to God thy rest,
For thou hast known his love.
My God hath sav’d my soul from death,
And dry’d my failing tears;
Now to his praise I’ll spend my breath,
And my remaining years.