What A Mournful Life Is Mine

What a mournful life is mine,
Filled with crosses, pains and cares!
Every work defiled with sin,
Every step beset with snares!

If alone I pensive sit,
I myself can hardly bear;
If I pass along the street,
Sin and riot triumph there.

Jesus! how my heart is pained,
How it mourns for souls deceived;
When I hear thy name profaned,
When I see thy spirit grieved!

When thy children’s grief I view,
Their distress becomes my own;
All I hear, or see, or do,
Makes me tremble, weep and groan.

Mourning thus I long had been,
When I heard my Saviour’s voice;
“Thou hast cause to mourn for sin,
“But in me thou may’st rejoice.”

This kind word dispelled my grief,
Put to silence my complaints;
Tho’ of sinners I’m the chief,
He has ranked me with his saints.

Tho’ constrained to dwell a while
Where the wicked strive and brawl;
Let them frown, so he but smile,
Heaven will make amends for all.

There, believers, we shall rest,
Free from sorrow, sin and fears:
Nothing there our peace molest,
Thro’ eternal rounds of years.

Let us then the fight endure,
See our Captain looking down:
He will make the conquest sure,
And bestow the promised crown.

Hymns and Spiritual Songs for the use of Christians,