Psalm 107 (Version 3, Part 3)

Vain man, on foolish pleasures bent,

Prepares for his own punishment;

What pains, what loathsome maladies

From luxury and lust arise!

The drunkard feels his vitals waste,

Yet drowns his health to please his taste;

Till all his active powers are lost,

And fainting life draws near the dust.

The glutton groans and loathes to eat,

His soul abhors delicious meat;

Nature, with heavy loads opprest,

Would yield to death to be releas'd.

Then how the frighted sinners fly

To God for help with earnest cry!

He hears their groans, prolongs their breath,

And saves them from approaching death,

No med'cines could effect the cure

So quick, so easy, or so sure:

The deadly sentence God repeals,

He sends his sovereign word, and heals,

O may the sons of men record

The wondrous goodness of the Lord!

And let their thankful offerings prove

How they adore their Maker's love.