When cares fall on me like a pall,
And boding fears and sorrows, all
Infold me in their gloomy arms,
Or fill me with their dread alarms,
'Tis then like healing unction shed
As soothing balm, about my head,
Or calming oil on tossing waves,
Or incense on foul, dismal graves,
Or salt thrown on a raging fire,
'Tis then that you have power to save,
And teach reflection to a knave.
When spirits fail and hearts grow sick,
And gloom is gnawing to the quick,
No glimmering of hope appears,
And no kind friend or beacon cheers
The soul, just sinking 'neath its load,
Lost and beweary, on the road.
As some lone wanderer lost, who sees
The curling smoke through forest trees,
Where he finds rest, and fare and cheer.
So the sad heart, uplifted by thy power,
In native peace, is strengthened every hour.
When drugs all fail, and M.D.'s cannot save,
Then Thy great power can wrest us from the
grave.
O Truth, great power! how potent, grand thou
art!
Come near, and take possession of our heart;
From error, sickness, death, now set us free;
Our lives, we then, will dedicate to Thee.
Oh! calm our passions, by Thy sovereign will,
And say to tumult all, Thy "Peace, be still! "
