Patient, too, mid all his grief;
Why be downcast, sad, desponding,
When he’ll freely give relief?
Oh, ’tis not that I am homeless,
Nor that I am suffering pain;
But my Saviour seems hid from me,
And my hope does not sustain.
I would daily have the witness,
That my dear Redeemer lives;
That he’s interceding for me,