How gracious and how wise

Is our chastising God;

And, O! how rich the blessings are

Which blossom from his rod!

2 He lifts it up on high

With pity in his heart,

That every stroke his children feel,

May grace and peace impart.

3 Instructed thus, they bow

And own his sovereign sway;

They turn their erring footsteps back

To his forsaken way.

4 His covenant love they seek,

And seek the happy bands

That closer still engage their hearts

To honor his commands.

5 Our Father, we consent

To discipline divine;

And bless the pain that makes our souls

Still more completely thine.

6 Supported by thy love,

We tend to realms of peace,

Where every pain shall far remove,

And every frailty cease.