Now I’m Convinced the Lord Is Kind

Now I’m con­vinced the Lord is kind

To men of heart sin­cere;

Yet once my fool­ish thoughts re­pined

And bor­dered on des­pair.

I grieved to see the wick­ed thrive

And spoke with an­gry breath

“How plea­sant and pro­fane they live!

How peace­ful is their death!

“With well-fed flesh and haugh­ty eyes

They lay their fears to sleep;

Against the heav’ns their slan­ders rise

While saints in si­lence weep.

In vain I lift my hands to pray

And cleanse my heart in vain;

For I am chasten­ed all the day

The night re­news my pain.

Yet while my tongue in­dulged com­plaints

I felt my heart re­prove;

Sure I shall thus of­fend thy saints

And grieve the men I love.

But still I found my doubts too hard

The con­flict too sev­ere

Till I re­tired to search Thy Word

And learn Thy sec­rets there.

There

as in some pro­phet­ic glass

I saw the sin­ner’s feet

High mount­ed on a slip­pery place

Beside a fie­ry pit.

I heard the wretch pro­fane­ly boast

Till at Thy frown he fell;

His hon­ors in a dream were lost

And he awakes in hell.

Lord

what an en­vi­ous fool I was!

How like a thought­less beast!

Thus to sus­pect Thy pro­mised grace

And think the wick­ed blest.

Thus I was kept from full des­pair

Upheld by pow­er un­known;

That bless­èd hand that broke the snare

Shall guide me to Thy throne.