Consider all my sorrows, Lord,
And thy deliv'rance send;
My soul for thy salvation faints
When will my troubles end?

Yet I have found 'tis good for me
To bear my Father's rod;
Afflictions make me learn thy law,
And live upon my God.

This is the comfort I enjoy
When new distress begins-
I read thy word, I run thy way,
And hate my former sins.

Had not thy word been my delight
When earthly joys were fled,
My soul, oppressed with sorrow's weight
Had sunk amongst the dead.

I know thy judgments, Lord, are right,
Though they may seem severe;
The sharpest suff'rings I endure
Flow from thy faithful care.

Before I knew thy chast'ning rod
My feet were apt to stray;
But now I learn to keep thy word,
Nor wander from thy way.