’Tis my happiness below
Not to live without the cross,
But the Savior’s power to know,
Sanctifying every loss;
Trials must and will befall,
But with humble faith to see
Love inscribed upon them all,
This is happiness to me.

God, in Israel, sows the seeds,
Of affliction, pain and toil;
These spring up, and choke the weeds
Which would else o’erspread the soil;
Trials make the promise sweet,
Trials give new life to prayer;
Trials bring me to His feet,
Lay me low, and keep me there.

Did I meet no trials here,
No chastisement by the way,
Might I not, with reason, fear
I should prove a castaway?
Bastards may escape the rod,
Sunk in earthly, vain delight;
But the true born child of God,
Must not, would not, if he might.