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Isaac Watts - Hymn 50
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Comfort under sorrows and pains.

Now let the Lord my Savior smile,
And show my name upon his heart,
I would forget my pains awhile,
And in the pleasure lose the smart.

But O, it swells my sorrows high
To see my blessed Jesus frown;
My spirits sink, my comforts die,
And all the springs of life are down.

Yet why, my soul, why these complaints?
Still while he frowns his bowels move;
Still on his heart he bears his saints,
And feels their sorrows and his love.

My name is printed on his breast;
His book of life contains my name;
I`d rather have it there impressed
Than in the bright records of fame.

When the last fire burns all things here,
Those letters shall securely stand,
And in the Lamb`s fair book appear,
Writ by th` eternal Father`s hand.

Now shall my minutes smoothly run,
Whilst here I wait my Father`s will;
My rising and my setting sun
Roll gently up and down the hill.
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