Wednesday, November 09, 2005

on his kind providence........

Not from the dust affliction grows,
Nor troubles rise by chance;
Yet we are born to cares and woes--
A sad inheritance!

As sparks break out from burning coals,
And still are upwards borne,
So grief is rooted in our souls,
And man grows up to mourn.

Yet with my God I leave my cause
And trust his promised grace;
He rules me by his well-known laws
Of love and righteousness.

Not all the pains that e'er I bore
Shall spoil my future peace;
For death and hell can do no more
Than what my Father please.

Gadsby #465 Watts

2 Comments:

Blogger ShapeNoteSinger said...

If I had written the last stanza, the final lines would read a little differently--

Not all the pains that e'er I bore
Shall spoil my future peace;
For life and men can do no more
Than what my Father please.

In his tender hand--
sns

9/11/05 07:51  
Anonymous Kebby said...

Great words! His and yours.

2/12/05 12:17  

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