HE WHOM THOU LOVEST, IS SICK

Don Fortner

He whom Thou lovest, Lord, is sick,

His body is in pain:

If it can please you, sov'reign Lord,

Restore his health again.

He whom Thou lovest, Lord, is sick,

Afflicted by Your hand,

He knows and trusts Your providence,

Comfort him by Your hand.

He whom Thou lovest, Lord, is sick,

But You will make his bed,

A bed of ease and peace and joy,

And nurse his aching head.

He whom Thou lovest, Lord, is sick,

The one for whom You died,

Make him to know Your strength divine,

Your presence at his side.

He whom Thou lovest, Lord, is sick,

Whatever You deem best,

Is what I want for my dear friend,

For truly that is best.

(Tune: When All Thy Mercies, Oh, My God)

Common Meter 86.86.