Firm was my health, my day was bright,
And I pre­sumed ’twould ne’er be night;
Fondly I said with­in my heart,
Pleasure and peace shall ne’er de­part.

But I for­got Thine arm was strong
Which made my mount­ain stand so long;
Soon as Thy face be­gan to hide,
My health was gone, my com­forts died.

I cried aloud to Thee, my God,
“What canst Thou pro­fit by my blood?
Deep in the dust can I de­clare
Thy truth, or sing Thy good­ness there?

Hear me, O God of grace, I said,
And bring me from among the dead:
Thy Word re­buked the pains I felt,
Thy par­don­ing love re­moved my guilt.

My groans, and tears, and forms of woe
Are turned to joy and prais­es now;
I throw my sack­cloth on the ground,
And ease and glad­ness gird me round.

My tongue, the glo­ry of my frame,
Shall ne’er be si­lent of Thy name;
Thy praise shall sound through earth and Heav’n,
For sick­ness healed and sins for­giv’n.