L. M. Sickness healed, and sorrow removed. I Will extol thee, Lord, on high, At thy command diseases fly: Who but a God can speak and save From the dark borders of the grave? Sing to the Lord, ye saints of his, And tell how large his goodness is; Let all your powers rejoice and bless While you record his holiness. His anger but a moment stays; His love is life and length of days; Though grief and tears the night employ, The morning star restores the joy. |