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Hymn/Song Information

When sickness shakes the languid frame




When sickness shakes the languid frame,
Each dazzling pleasure flies;
Phantoms of bliss no more obscure
Our long-deluded eyes.


The tottering frame of mortal life
Shall crumble into dust;
Nature shall faint óbut learn, my soul,
On natureís God to trust.


The man whose pious heart is fixed
On his all-gracious God,
In every frown may comfort find,
And kiss the chastening rod.


Near him shall death itself alarm;
On heaven his soul relies;
With joy he views his Makerís love,
And with composure dies.

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LYRICS
Meter: 8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
Writer(s):
    Trans/Adapted:
      Dates:
      Bible Refs:
      LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
      Hymn/Song Book Year Song #
      1851# 508
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