1    When pining sickness wastes the frame,
        Acute disease, or tiring pain;
        When life fast spends her feeble flame,
        And all the help of man proves vain;
    2    Then, then to have recourse to God,
        To pour a prayer in time of need,
        And feel the balm of Jesus’ blood,
        This is to find a friend indeed.
    3    And this, O Christian, is thy lot,
        Who cleavest to the Lord by faith;
        He’ll never leave thee (doubt it not)
        In pain, in sickness, or in death.
    4    Himself shall be thy helping Friend,
        Thy good Physician and thy nurse;
        To make thy bed shall condescend,
        And from the affliction take the curse.
    5    Should’st thou a moment’s absence mourn;
        Should some short darkness intervene;
        He’ll give thee power, till light return,
        To trust him, with the cloud between.
Source: A Selection of Hymns for Public Worship. In four parts (10th ed.) (Gadsby's Hymns) #707