The Lord will sustain and strengthen him on his sick bed. Psalm 41:3
Words: Benjamin Beddome (1717–1795). Published posthumously in Hymns Adapted to Public Worship (London: Burton & Briggs, 1818), number 738.
In Time of Sickness.
If you know where to get a good picture of Beddome or Maker (head & shoulders, at least 200×300 pixels),
Oh Thou all holy, wise and just,
Whom Heav’n and earth obey;
Thou only object of my trust,
Whose word can sink me into dust,
Or raise my feeble clay.
Yielding to what Thou shalt propose,
Behold, Thy creature lies;
Resigned to dwell along with those,
Who in the silent grave repose,
Or to new health arise.
If now the last decisive day
Of my frail life draw near,
My soul while fainting with dismay,
From rising crimes in dread array,
Do Thou with mercy cheer.
Or if my past iniquity,
My dying hour molest,
Yet oh then save me when I die,
Nor to my parting soul deny,
An entrance into rest.
But if Thy boundless grace should spare
My fleeting life again;
Let sin no more my soul ensnare,
But love and warm devotion there,
In blissful union reign.
This for the honor of Thy name,
And through the Savior’s blood,
Not as desert, but grace I claim,
And in the most submissive frame,
Implore of Thee, my God.