Classic Poem

THE REMEDY FOR WORLDLY FEAR AND GRIEF .

W HY does my coward heart
Yield up itself to fear?
Why thus at distant danger start,
And die when danger's near?

Shall faith let go her hold?
Faith makes the tim'rous brave.
Is the Almighty arm grown old,
And impotent to save?

Why thus disquieted, my soul,
By hopeless grief devour'd;
When waves on waves of trouble roll,
In storms around thee pour'd?

Hope thou in God; He'll not disdain
His children in distress:
His hand their burden will sustain,
His grace their sorrows bless.

Ah! could I hope, that He
My soul has reconcil'd;
Courage would spring and joy, in me
His much-offending child.

His powerful love, I know,
Is watchful o'er the just.
Virtue is all he loves below,
The rest is dross and dust.

O Thou, whose glory is to break
Sin's miserable chain,
Jesus, my rescue undertake,
Me, me to virtue gain.

This desert, then, I'll travel through
Chearful, without dismay;
Beholding, with the righteous few,
The leader of our way.