MY Father, when I’m weak and ill,
And cannot think or pray at will,
Oh let me feel thy presence still,
Blessing thy feeble child.
And when I’m very weak and faint,
And feel so given to complaint,
Administer thy lov’d restraint,
Comfort thy weary child.
Should pain distract me night and day,
Without the prospect of allay,
My Father, be the strength and stay
Of thy poor suffering child.
And when my soul strives to be free,
And from its tabernacle flee,
Then for the place prepar’d for me,
Conduct thy willing child.
Now praise to thee, who all my way
Hast known my griefs and heard me pray,
In heaven I’ll sing thy love alway,
Thy loving happy child.
M. E.