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Ye mothers, who, with growing love,
Press your dear infant to your breast,
Say, can your joys and pleasures prove
That you are now entirely blest?
Do not a thousand tender cares
By turns your restless thoughts employ?
Now rising hopes, now anxious fears,
And grief succeeds to pleasing joy!
Dear, tender babe, its lovely smiles
With what delight and joy you view!
But ev’ry pain the infant feels,
Do you not feel its suff’rings too?
What fancied, busy, cruel fear,
Rush in, and say, “the child may die!”
And nature prompts the ready tear,
And heaves the rising, deep-fetch’d sigh.
Ah! does not God our comfort mix
With greater far than equal pain;
To teach us if our hearts we fix
On earth, we fix them there in vain.
Then be our earthly joys resign’d
Since here below we cannot rest;
For earthly joys were ne’er design’d
To make our souls completely blest.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1815 | # 410 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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DUKE STREET
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1793
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 193 | No key | | # 351 | No key | | # 225 | No key | | # 246 | No key | | # 32 | No key | | # 49 | C | | # 289 | D | | # 398 | D | | # 231 | D | | # 107 | D | | # 387 | D | | # 384 | D | | # 12 | D | | # 212 | D | | # 381 | D | | # 184 | E | | # 1084 | E | | # 24 | Eb | | # 116 | Eb | | # 128 | Eb | | # 187 | Eb | | # 19 | Eb | | # 459 | Eb | | # 26 | Eb | | # 784 | Eb | | # 540 | Eb | | # 747.1 | No key | | # 120 | F | | # 424 | Bb | | # 658 | E | | # 53 | Eb | | # 5 | Eb |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
