1096    8.7.     R. Burnham
“I had fainted, unless I had believed.” Ps. 27. 13

1 O what dangers, all distressing,
  Snare each mourning pilgrim’s feet;
  Gloomy sorrows still increasing,
  Swell the present changing state.

2 Sometimes things around are cheering;
  Grace and providence unite;
  Nought but mercy seems appearing,
  Yielding peace and sweet delight.

3 But new trials soon surround us,
  Griefs and sorrows, sins and cares;
  Creatures all conspire to wound us,
  And no help from heaven appears.

4 O for faith, and hope, and patience,
  Under every gracious rod;
  Till at length we sing salvation,
  Wrought by Zion’s faithful God!