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314 The bitter is sweet, The med cine is food; Though painful at present, Twill cease before long, And then, ! how pleasant The conqueror s song!

1 IF to Jesus for relief My soul has fled by pray r, Why should I give way to grief, Or heart-consuming care ? Are not all things in his hand ? Has he not his promise pass d ? Will he then regardless stand, And let me sink at last ?

2 While I know his providence Disposes each event, Shall I judge by feeble sense, And yield to discontent ? If he worms and sparrows feed, Clothe the grass in rich array, Can he see a child in need, And turn his eye away ?

3 When his name was quite unknown, And sin my life employ d, Then he watch d me as his own, Or I had been destroy d ! Now his mercy-seat I know. Now by grace am reconciled ; Would he spare me while a foe, To leave me when a child ?

4 If he all my wants supplied When I disdain d to pray ; Now his Spirit is my guide, How can he say me nay? If he would not give me up When my soul against him fought.