As once for Jo­nah, so the Lord
To soothe and cheer my mourn­ful hours,
Prepared for me a pleas­ing gourd;
Its shade was cool, and sweet its flow­ers.

To prize His gift was sure­ly right;
But through the fol­ly of my heart,
It hid the Giv­er from my sight,
And soon my joy was changed to smart.

While I ad­mired its beau­te­ous form,
Its plea­sant shade and grace­ful fruit;
The Lord, dis­pleased, sent forth a worm,
Unseen, to prey up­on the root.

I trem­bled when I saw it fade,
But guilt re­strained the mur­mur­ing word;
My folly I con­fessed, and prayed,
Forgive my sin, and spare my gourd.

His won­drous love can ne’er be told,
He heard me and re­lieved my pain;
His word the threat­en­ing worm con­trolled,
And bid my gourd re­vive again.

Now, Lord, the gourd is mine no more,
’Tis Thine, who on­ly couldst it raise;
The id­ol of my heart be­fore,
Henceforth shall flour­ish to Thy praise.