The Saviour knows our every grief;
He knows the time to give relief:
When we are purified and tried,
And our whole wills are sanctified.
How to destroy our dross and tin,
And cleanse us from each stain of sin,
What to inflict, the Lord knows best;
‘Tis only ours to stand the test.
What though we suffer grief and pain,
And earth’s fair prospects strew the plain,
Let us submit, whate’er befall,
And make our God our all in all.
What though we’re wrongfully accused,
Oft times e’en slanderously abused?
Say not these ills we cannot bear,
But in our Saviour’s suffering share.
What he endured no tongue can tell,
When on Him our transgressions fell;
Meekly he bore them on the tree,
And paid the debt for you and me.
He purchased holiness and Heaven,
Or we could ne’er have been forgiven.
The Saviour’s blood redemption cost,
Without which all our race was lost.
Shall we then sink beneath the rod,
Inflicted by a holy God
To purify and make us white,
That he may be our sole delight?
No; though it sharply smites, resign,
And pray for grace and love divine;
For all this, Heaven will make amends,
And ofttimes quick deliverance sends.
The Lord in him would have us free;
Through Him we gain the victory,
All he will be to us we need,
That we a holy life may lead.
Be holy. Oh! how blest to know,
Our Father helps to make us so;
‘Tis but for us to yield our will,
His word and promise He’ll fulfill.
No guilt or fear, no will, no choice;
In God alone we now rejoice,
And bless the hand that gave the blow,
And laid our earthly comforts low.
