LORD, though bitter is the cup,
Thy kind hand deals out to me,
Cheerful I would drink it up,
Nought can hurt which comes from thee.
2 Dash it with unchanging love,
Let no drops of wrath be there;
Saints now ever blessed above,
Oft were most afflicted here.
3 From thy blessed incarnate Son,
True obedience I would learn;
When thy will on earth is done,
I shall then no longer mourn.
DEAR Lord! though bitter is the cup
Thy gracious hand deals out to me,
I cheerfully would drink it up;
That cannot hurt which comes from thee.
2 Dash it with thy unchanging love,
Let not a drop of wrath be there!—
The saints, for ever bless'd above,
Were often most afflicted here.
3 From Jesus, thy incarnate Son,
I'll learn obedience to thy will;
And humbly kiss the chastening rod,
When its severest strokes I feel.