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Isaac Watts - Psalm 39 part 3Isaac Watts - Psalm 39 part 3
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v.9-13 C. M. Sick-bed devotion. God of my life, look gently down, Behold the pains I feel; But I am dumb before thy throne, Nor dare dispute thy will. Diseases are thy servants, Lord, They come at thy command; I`ll not attempt a murm`ring word Against thy chast`ning hand. Yet I may plead with humble cries, Remove thy sharp rebukes; My strength consumes, my spirit dies, Through thy repeated strokes. Crushed as a moth beneath thy hand, We moulder to the dust; Our feeble powers can ne`er withstand, And all our beauty`s lost. [This mortal life decays apace, How soon the bubble`s broke! Adam and all his num`rous race Are vanity and smoke.] I`m but a sojourner below, As all my fathers were; May I be well prepared to go, When I the summons hear. But if my life be spared awhile, Before my last remove, Thy praise shall be my business still, And I`ll declare thy love.
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