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COMFORT IN SICKNESS

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Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Feb 3, 1859

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 13, No. 11.

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COMFORT IN SICKNESS.

By S. C. Welcome

How sweet in deep affliction's trying hour, To lift our heart to him who hath the power To soothe our sorrows, and whose gentle hand Points ever onward to the promised land.
And while we groan in bondage to disease, And death comes creeping on us by degrees, By faith we see our Father's loving hand Beckon us onward to the promised land.
We feel his arm support us by the way, While pains these bodies rack; we hear him say, I'll ne'er forsake thee; but my own right hand Shall lead thee safely to the promised land.
When anguish leads us almost to despair, 'Tis then we feel the benefit of prayer. We lift our hearts to him whose gentle hand Opens our eyes to see the promised land.
A present help in every time of need, He bears our griefs, and with the Father pleads That we through him may on mount Zion stand, When he shall reign o'er all the promised land.
And if death comes to lay us in the ground, We rest in hope, for soon the trump shall sound, And who in Jesus sleep, at his command Shall rise to dwell within the promised land. S. C. WELCOME.