Since life in sorrow must be spent, So be it—I am well content, And meekly wait my last remove, Seeking only growth in love. | No bliss I seek, but to fulfil In life, in death, thy lovely will; No succours in my woes I want, Save what thou art pleased to grant. | Our days are numbered, let us spare Our anxious hearts a needless care: 'Tis thine to number out our days; Ours to give them to thy praise. | Love is our only business here, Love, simple, constant, and sincere; O blessed days, thy servants see, Spent, O Lord! in pleasing thee! | |