873    L.M.     J. Hart
Chastisement. Ps. 6. 1; 30. 8-10; 118. 18

1 To thee, my God, I make my plaint;
  To thee my trembling soul draws near;
  Let not thy chastening make me faint,
  Nor guilt o’erwhelm me with despair.

2 What though thou frown to try my faith?
  What though thy heavy hand afflict?
  Thou wilt not give me up to death,
  Not enter into judgment strict.

3 I know thy judgments, Lord, are right;
  Thy rod commands me to repent;
  If with my sin compared, ’tis light,
  And all in faithfulness is sent.

4 What would my blood avail, if spilt?
  Thou hast in richer blood been paid,
  When all my dreadful debt of guilt
  Was on my dying Saviour laid.

5 Then help me by thy grace to bear
  Whate’er thou send to purge my dross;
  If in his crown I hope to share,
  Why should I grudge to bear his cross?

6 Though thou severely with me deal,
  Still will I in thy mercy trust;
  Accomplish in me all thy will;
  Only remember I am dust.