See how rude winter's icy hand

1 See how rude winter's icy hand
Has stripped the trees, and sealed the ground;
But spring shall soon his rage withstand,
And spread new beauties all around.

2 My soul a sharper winter mourns,
Barren and lifeless I remain,
When will the gentle spring return,
And bid my graces grow again?

3 Jesus, my glorious sun, arise,
'Tis thine the frozen heart to move;
Oh! hush these storms, and clear my skies,
And let me feel thy vital love.

4 Dear Lord, regard my feeble cry,
I faint and droop 'till thou appear;
Wilt thou permit thy plant to die?
Must it be winter all the year?

5 Be still, my soul, and wait his hour,
With humble prayer, and patient faith,
'Till he reveals his gracious power,
Repose on what his promise saith.

6 He, by whose all commanding words,
Seasons their changing course maintain;
In every change a pledge affords,
That none shall seek his face in vain.

The Christian's duty, exhibited in a series of hymns, 1791