Sympathy with the Afflicted

Verse 1

Father of mercies! send thy grace, All powerful from above, To form in our obedient souls The image of thy love.

Verse 2

Oh, may our sympathizing breasts The generous pleasure know, Kindly to share in others' joy, And weep for others' woe!

Verse 3

When the most helpless sons of grief In low distress are laid, Soft be our hearts their pains to feel, And swift our hands to aid.

Verse 4

So Jesus looked on dying men, When throned above the skies; And 'mid the embraces of his God, He felt compassion rise.

Verse 5

On wings of love the Saviour flew, To raise us from the ground, And made the richest of his blood A balm for every wound.