A HYMN FOR THE AFFLICTED.
Wounded within me is my heart,I mourn and sit alone;And every voice that comes to meBreathes out a plaintive tone.Ah me! how can I longer liveWhere all is desolate?I wander like a lonely bird,Bereaved of its mate.O! would that I had died with thee,My dear, my early friend!Then deep affliction would not nowMy mourning bosom rend.But no! It was my Father’s choice!I bow to his decree!He loved my friend, and call’d him home,And O! he loveth me!The Angel of the covenantIs standing by my side;I pray thee, soother of my griefs!There ever to abide!And now he makes the storm a calm;The waves thereof are still;My peace doth like a river flow,—I love my Father’s will.
Wounded within me is my heart,I mourn and sit alone;And every voice that comes to meBreathes out a plaintive tone.Ah me! how can I longer liveWhere all is desolate?I wander like a lonely bird,Bereaved of its mate.O! would that I had died with thee,My dear, my early friend!Then deep affliction would not nowMy mourning bosom rend.But no! It was my Father’s choice!I bow to his decree!He loved my friend, and call’d him home,And O! he loveth me!The Angel of the covenantIs standing by my side;I pray thee, soother of my griefs!There ever to abide!And now he makes the storm a calm;The waves thereof are still;My peace doth like a river flow,—I love my Father’s will.
Wounded within me is my heart,I mourn and sit alone;And every voice that comes to meBreathes out a plaintive tone.
Wounded within me is my heart,
I mourn and sit alone;
And every voice that comes to me
Breathes out a plaintive tone.
Ah me! how can I longer liveWhere all is desolate?I wander like a lonely bird,Bereaved of its mate.
Ah me! how can I longer live
Where all is desolate?
I wander like a lonely bird,
Bereaved of its mate.
O! would that I had died with thee,My dear, my early friend!Then deep affliction would not nowMy mourning bosom rend.
O! would that I had died with thee,
My dear, my early friend!
Then deep affliction would not now
My mourning bosom rend.
But no! It was my Father’s choice!I bow to his decree!He loved my friend, and call’d him home,And O! he loveth me!
But no! It was my Father’s choice!
I bow to his decree!
He loved my friend, and call’d him home,
And O! he loveth me!
The Angel of the covenantIs standing by my side;I pray thee, soother of my griefs!There ever to abide!
The Angel of the covenant
Is standing by my side;
I pray thee, soother of my griefs!
There ever to abide!
And now he makes the storm a calm;The waves thereof are still;My peace doth like a river flow,—I love my Father’s will.
And now he makes the storm a calm;
The waves thereof are still;
My peace doth like a river flow,—
I love my Father’s will.
January 2, 1841.