1 What a mournful life is mine,
Fill'd with crosses, pains and cares!
Ev'ry work defil'd with sin,
Ev'ry step beset with snares!
2 If alone I pensive sit,
I myself can hardly bear;
If I pass along the street,
Sin and riot triumph there.
3 Jesus! how my heart is pain'd,
How it mourns for souls deceiv'd;
When I hear thy name profan'd,
When I see thy spirit griev'd!
4 When thy children's grief I view,
Their distress becomes my own;
All I hear, or see, or do,
Makes me tremble, weep and groan.
5 Mourning thus I long had been,
When I heard my Saviour's voice;
"Thou hast cause to mourn for sin,
"But in me thou may'st rejoice."
6 This kind word dispell'd my grief,
Put to silence my complaints;
Tho' of sinners I'm the chief,
He has rank'd me with his saints.
7 Tho' constrain'd to dwell a while
Where the wicked strive and brawl;
Let them frown, so he but smile,
Heav'n will make amends for all.
8 There, believers, we shall rest,
Free from sorrow, sin and fears:
Nothing there our peace molest,
Thro' eternal rounds of years.
9 Let us then the fight endure,
See our Captain looking down:
He will make the conquest sure,
And bestow the promis'd crown.
|First Line:||What a mournful life is mine|
|Title:||Dwelling in Mesech|