O God, Whose attributes shine forth in turn,

To me conspicuous as a God of Love,

Since with weak health Thou dost my patience prove,

And kindlest fires of grief that fiercely burn;

Burn in the furnace of affliction’s fire

All that has been a hindrance and a let,

When, through Thy grace, my heart was fully set

To serve Thee as Thy righteous laws require.

In hours of weakness, O be Thou my Strength!

My Source of comfort, when by anguish tried;

And let thy joy within my breast abide,

Through agonizing days of tedious length:

What though incessant pain through weary hours

My flesh and bones in constant torture keep,

Though ceaseless throbbings bar my eyes from sleep,

’Tis love that on my head its blessing showers.

My sole employment now the whole day long,

The only talk my time to occupy,

Is still in meek submission here to lie;

To suffer weakness makes me grow more strong,

To suffer loss of health is greatest gain;

Reposing in my heavenly Father’s Will,

In silent adoration I lie still;

My only service is to suffer pain.

As token, Lord, of thy great love I take

The pains I suffer, calm in this belief,

That thou dost purpose through my path of grief

My soul more perfect in thy sight to make:

The tender watchful care of nursing friends,

With kind attempts my suffering to relieve,

As from thy gracious Hand I will receive,

Since ’tis thy love the welcome succour sends.

Let not my soul halt in its heavenward race,

By weakness of this woe-worn frame opprest;

But let it evermore find peace and rest

In Thee, O Lord, and thy refreshing grace:

Then shall no constant ache, or sudden smart

Impede my spirit in its upward flight,

Or my repose and inward comfort blight;

O be Thou still the Stay of my poor heart!

So long as Thou seest fit my faith to try,

Let me with firm, serene, and tranquil mind,

Entirely to thy Holy Will resigned,

Unmurmuring on my bed of sickness lie;

Since it is through the offending body’s pains,

The groaning spirit is made white and tried,

And from that human frailty purified,

Which with each tenant of the earth remains.

My span of days to Thee I dedicate,

Content to bear with Thee the blessed Cross;

Let me, through joy and grief, in gain or loss,

With trusting heart commit to Thee my fate:

I fear no ill, of this conviction sure,

That whether my sad journey’s end be near,

Or long in weakness I must linger here,

Love works my good by all that I endure.