Begone unbelief, my Saviour is near,
And for my relief
will surely appear:
By prayer let me wrestle, and He wilt
perform,
With Christ in the vessel, I smile at the storm.
Though dark be my way, since He is my Guide,
¡¦Tis mine to
obey, ¡¦tis His to provide;
Though cisterns be broken, and
creatures all fail,
The Word He has spoken shall surely
prevail.
Why should I complain of want or distress,
Temptation or pain? He told me no less:
The heirs of salvation, I know from His Word,
Through much tribulation must follow their Lord.
How bitter that cup, No heart can conceive,
Which he drunk quite up, that sinners might live!
His way was much rougher, And darker than mine;
Did Jesus thus suffer, And shall I repine?
Since all that I meet shall work for my good,
The bitter is sweet, the medicine is food;
Tho' painful at present, wilt cease before long,
And then, O! how pleasant, the conqueror's song!
