“I had fainted, unless I had believed.” Ps. 27. 13
R. Burnham 8.7.
1
O what dangers, all distressing,
Snare each mourning pilgrim’s feet;
Gloomy sorrows still increasing,
Swell the present changing state.
2
Sometimes things around are cheering;
Grace and providence unite;
Nought but mercy seems appearing,
Yielding peace and sweet delight.
3
But new trials soon surround us,
Griefs and sorrows, sins and cares;
Creatures all conspire to wound us,
And no help from heaven appears.
4
O for faith, and hope, and patience,
Under every gracious rod;
Till at length we sing salvation,
Wrought by Zion’s faithful God!
