Poor and afflicted, Lord are thine; Among the great unfit to shine; But though the world may think it strange, They would not with the world exchange. Poor and afflicted, yet they trust In God, the gracious, wise, and just; For them he deigns this lot to choose, Nor would they dare his will refuse. Poor and afflicted, oft they are Sorely oppressed with want and care; Yet he who saves them by his blood, Makes every sorrow yeild them good. Poor and afflicted--yet they sing, For Christ, their glorious, conq'ring King, Through suff'rings perfect, reigns on high, And does their every need supply. Poor and afflicted--yet ere long, They'll join the bright celestial throng, And all their suff'rings then shall close, And heav'n afford them sweet repose. Poor and afflicted, filled with grief-- O Lord, afford us kind relief, To cheer the heart that heaves a sigh, And wipe the tears from every eye.