From Another Sore Fit

In my distress I sought the Lord
When none on earth could comfort give,
And when my soul these things abhorred,
Then, Lord, You said unto me, "Live."

You know the sorrows that I felt;
My plaints and groans were heard of Thee,
And how in sweat I seemed to melt
You helped and You regarded me.

My wasted flesh You did restore,
My feeble loins did gird with strength,
Yes, when I was most low and poor,
I said I shall praise You at length.

What shall I render to my God
For all His bounty showed to me?
Even for His mercies in His rod,
Where pity most of all I see.

My heart I wholly give to Thee;
O make it fruitful, faithful Lord.
My life shall dedicated be
To praise in thought, in deed, in word.


No other life I did require
other than Your name to praise.
Nor ought on earth worthy desire,
In drawing out these wretched days.

Your name and praise to celebrate,
O Lord, for this is my request.
O grant I do it in this state,
And then with You, which is the best.