While sorrows encompass me round,
And endless distresses I see;
Astonish’d I cried, Can a mortal be found,
Surrounded with troubles like me.

Few hours of praise I employ,
And these all surrounded by pain;
If moments of praising my God I enjoy,
I’ve hours again to complain.

May I be prepared for that day,
When Jesus shall bid me remove;
And fill’d with his power go shouting away
To th’arms of my heavenly love.

Recordings 1