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Thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness.
Psalm 41:3.

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How vast is the tribute I owe,

Of gratitude, homage and praise,

To the giver of all I possess,

The life and the length of my days!

2 When the sorrows I boded were come,

I poured out my sighs and my tears;

And to him, who alone can relieve,

My soul breathed her vows and her prayers.

3 When my heart throbbed with pain and alarm,

When paleness my cheek overspread,

When sickness pervaded my frame—

Then my soul on my Maker was stayed.

4 When death’s awful image was nigh,

And no mortal was able to save,

Thou didst brighten the valley of death,

And illumine the gloom of the grave.

5 In mercy thy presence dispels

The shades of adversity’s night,

And turns the sad scene of despair

To a morning of joy and delight.

6 Great source of my comforts restored,

Thou healer and balm of my woes!

Thou hope and desire of my soul!

On thy mercy I’ll ever repose.

7 How boundless the gratitude due

To thee, O thou God of my praise!

The fountain of all I possess,

The life and the light of my days!

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