1 Now let the Lord my Saviour smile, And shew 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.
3 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.
4 My name is printed on his breast; His book of life contains my name; I'd rather have it there impress'd Than in the bright records of fame.
5 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.
6 Now shall my minutes smoothly run, Whil'st here I wait my Father's will; My rising and my setting sun Roll gently up and down the hill.