How gracious and how wise
Is our chastising God!
And O! how rich the blessings are,
That blossom from his rod!
He lifts it up on high
With pity in his heart,
That every stroke his children feel
May grace and peace impart.
Our Father, we consent
To discipline divine;
And bless the pains that make our souls
Still more completely thine.
Is our chastising God!
And O! how rich the blessings are,
That blossom from his rod!
He lifts it up on high
With pity in his heart,
That every stroke his children feel
May grace and peace impart.
Our Father, we consent
To discipline divine;
And bless the pains that make our souls
Still more completely thine.
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