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L. M.

Health, sickness, and recovery.


Firm was my health, my day was bright,

And I presumed 'twould ne'er be night;

Fondly I said within my heart,

"Pleasure and peace shall ne'er depart."

But I forgot thine arm was strong

Which made my mountain stand so long:

Soon as thy face began to hide,

My health was gone, my comforts died.

I cried aloud to thee, my God,

"What canst thou profit by my blood?

Deep in the dust can I declare

Thy truth, or sing thy goodness there?

"Hear me, O God of grace," I said,

"And bring me from among the dead:"

Thy word rebuked the pains I felt,

Thy pard'ning love removed my guilt.

My groans, and tears, and forms of woe

Are turned to joy and praises now;

I throw my sackcloth on the ground,

And ease and gladness gird me round

My tongue, the glory of my frame,

Shall ne'er be silent of thy name;

Thy praise shall sound through earth and heav'n

For sickness healed and sins forgiv'n.

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