352 The Hymn of a Wounded Spirit
Phoebe Hinsdale Brown, 1818.
I love to steal awhile away From every cumbering care, And spend the hour of setting day In humble, grateful prayer. | I love in solitude to shed The penitential tear, And all His promises to plead Where none but God can hear. | I love to think of mercies past, And future good implore, And all my cares and sorrows cast On Him whom I adore. | I love by faith to take a view Of brighter scenes in heaven; The prospect doth my strength renew, While here by tempests driven. | Thus when life’s toilsome day is o’er, May its departing ray Be calm as this impressive hour And lead to endless day. | |