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.