Scripture Verse

I was silent; I would not open my mouth, for You are the one who has done this. Remove Your scourge from me; I am overcome by the blow of Your hand. Psalm 39:9–10

Introduction

portrait
Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

Words: Is­aac Watts, The Psalms of Da­vid 1719. Sick-bed de­vo­tion; or plead­ing with­out re­pin­ing.

Music: Bur­ford, in the Book of Psal­mo­dy, by John Che­tham, 1718 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Lyrics

God of my life, look gent­ly down,
Behold the pains I feel;
But I am dumb be­fore Thy throne,
Nor dare dis­pute Thy will.

Diseases are Thy ser­vants, Lord,
They come at Thy com­mand;
I’ll not at­tempt a mur­mur­ing word
Against Thy chast­en­ing hand.

Yet I may plead with hum­ble cries,
Remove Thy sharp re­bukes;
My strength con­sumes, my spir­it dies,
Through Thy re­peat­ed strokes.

Crushed as a moth be­neath Thy hand,
We mol­der to the dust;
Our fee­ble pow­ers can ne’er with­stand,
And all our beau­ty’s lost.

This mor­tal life de­cays apace,
How soon the bub­ble’s broke!
Adam and all his nu­mer­ous race
Are va­ni­ty and smoke.

I’m but a so­journ­er be­low,
As all my fa­thers were;
May I be well pre­pared to go,
When I the sum­mons hear!

But if my life be spared a while,
Before my last re­move,
Thy praise shall be my bu­si­ness still,
And I’ll de­clare Thy love.