Classic Poem

On being in Trouble

S O mournful are my Thoughts,
How shall I vent my Grief?
Oh! were I in some lonely Grove,
Would that afford relief?

If I to Mortals speak,
Small Pity shall I find;
It often aggravates the Grief;
When we disclose the Mind.

My God knows all my Grief,
He knows my hopes and fear,
He only gives relief,
He's always present, ever near.

He does not willingly afflict
The Sons of Men, to grieve;
And surely then the humble Soul
He timely will relieve.

But why my Thoughts so sad,
Since my Redeemer lives?
And all that's ever good for me
So readily he gives?

And what then, is not good for me
I freely may resign;
Come, dearest Lord, Oh! take and keep
This treach'rous heart of mine.

That I may meditate
The wonders of thy Love,
Oh! take my Heart from things below,
Fix it on Joys above.

Oh! what a wonder of God's Love,
That sent his Son to die!
My Saviour freely gave his Life,
Justice to satisfy.

Then why do I complain,
This World is not my rest;
Heaven's Joys no interruption know,
In Jesus I am blest.