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Hymn/Song Information

SICK BED REFLECTIONS




Just o'er the grave I hung—
No pardon met my eyes,
As blessings never greet the slain,
And hope shall never rise.


Sweet mercy to my soul
Reveal'd no charming ray;
Before me rose a long — dark night,
With no succeeding day.


Then—Oh, how vain appear'd
The joys beneath the sky!
Like visions past—like flow'rs that blow
When wint'ry storms ace nigh.


How mourn'd my sinking soul
The Sabbath's hours divine,
The day of grace, that precious day,
Consumed in sense and sin.


The work—the mighty work
Of life, so long delay'd—
Repentance yet to be begun
Upon a dying bed.

marker 99
LYRICS
Meter: 6 6 8 6 (S.M.)
Writer(s):
    Trans/Adapted:
      Dates:
      Bible Refs:
      MUSIC
      Name: ST. THOMAS
      Meter: 6 6 8 6 (S.M.)
      Writer(s):
        Dates: 1770
        SCORE PREVIEW
        score
        ALTERNATIVE TUNES
        Name meter
        6 6 8 6 (S.M.)
        6 6 8 6 (S.M.)
        echo '
        ';
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