What ails my heart, that in my breast
It thus unquiet lies;
And that it now of needful rest
Deprives my tiréd eyes?
Let not vain hopes, griefs, doubts, or fears,
Distemper so my mind;
But cast on God thy thoughtful cares,
And comfort thou shalt find.
In vain that soul attempteth ought,
And spends her thoughts in vain,
Who by or in herself hath sought
Desiréd peace to gain.
On thee, O Lord, on thee therefore,
My musings now I place;
Thy free remission I implore,
And thy refreshing grace.
Forgive thou me, that when my mind
Oppressed began to be,
- sought elsewhere my peace to find,
Before I came to thee.
And, gracious God, vouchsafe to grant,
Unworthy though I am,
The needful rest which now I want,
That I may praise thy name.
Before examining the volume, one would say that no man could write so
many hymns without frequent and signal failure. But the marvel here is,
that the hymns are all so very far from bad. He can never have written in
other than a gentle mood. There must have been a fine harmony in his
nature, that kept him, as it were. This peacefulness makes him
interesting in spite of his comparative flatness. I must restrain remark,
however, and give five out of twelve stanzas of another of his hymns.