Complaint in sickness. <br /> <br />In anger, Lord, rebuke me not; <br />Withdraw the dreadful storm; <br />Nor let thy fury grow so hot <br />Against a feeble worm. <br /> <br />My soul's bowed down with heavy cares, <br />My flesh with pain oppressed; <br />My couch is witness to my tears, <br />My tears forbid my rest. <br /> <br />Sorrow and pain wear out my days, <br />I waste the night with cries, <br />Counting the minutes as they pass, <br />Till the slow morning rise. <br /> <br />Shall I be still tormented more? <br />Mine eye consumed with grief? <br />How long, my God, how long before <br />Thine hand afford relief? <br /> <br />He hears when dust and ashes speak, <br />He pities all our groans; <br />He saves us for his mercy's sake, <br />And heals our broken bones. <br /> <br />The virtue of his sovereign word <br />Restores our fainting breath; <br />For silent graves praise not the Lord, <br />Nor is he known in death.<br /><br />Isaac Watts<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/psalm-6/
