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When struggling on the bed of pain,
And earth and all its joys are vain,
How sweet, my God, to know thy power
Sustains me in this trying hour.
I call the elders here, O Lord,
To do according to thy word;
And while the oil’s by faith applied,
Oh, may my soul be sanctified.
Then shall my cheerful, grateful tongue,
In rapturous strains thy praise prolong;
My ransomed soul adore thy grace,
And swifter run the heavenly race.
Or, should my days he near their end,
And I through death my steps must wend,
Then, O my Lord, receive me home,
To mingle with the blood-washed throng.
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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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| 2005 | # 320 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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DWIGHT
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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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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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| # 82 | Ab |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
