For a Sick Friend

See, gracious Lord, with pitying eyes,
Beneath Thy hand a sufferer lies,
Thy mercy not Thine anger proves;
And sick he is whom Jesus loves.

His to Thine own afflictions join,
Accept, exalt, and count them Thine;
Thy passion which remains fulfil,
And suffer in Thy members still.

His sickness feel, endure his pain,
His burden bear, his cross sustain;
Grieve in his griefs, and sigh his sighs,
And breathe his wishes to the skies.

Enter his heart, possess him whole,
Inspire and actuate his soul;
Himself no longer let it be
That suffers, or that lives — but Thee.

Thyself, through sufferings perfect made,
Conform him thus to Thee his Head;
Refine, and raise his virtue higher,
When tried, and purified by fire.

So when his eyes behold Thee near.
And Thou, his hidden life, appear,
Bright in Thy likeness shall he shine,
And glorious all, and all Divine.