In trials, anxious and distressed,
Though painful in the time,
The trials in the mind and flesh,
For purity designed,
With grief and sorrow full possessed,
Yet joy is called to mind.
Though persecuted or alone,
In poverty or thirst,
In unexpected troubles blown,
Yet count it joy from first,
Rejoicing then for sorrow sown,
For patience it will birth.
The fire buns away the dross,
And kindles stronger faith,
Then happy in our greatest loss,
For we gain when we wait,
And patience brings its perfect gloss,
In pain we celebrate.
Oh, Lord, then bring us back to Thee,
For Thou designed this pain,
And bring me to Thy purity,
Thy presence then to gain,
The catalyst of sanctity,
Thy grace will yet remain.