To a Friend in Sickness

When late the sad Account I heard, That racking Pains disturb'd thy Rest; My anxious Soul thy Sorrow shar'd; My Heart beat thick within my Breast, O God! I said, thy Mercy show, Let Angels guard my Friend, Eternal King avert the Blow, And round his Bed thy Comfort send. Let Health her azure Wings expand, And let us greet the welcome Dove. O! send that Carrier from thy Hand, And all his bitter Pangs remove. With earnest Wish I thus implor'd, The mighty One that governs all; And for thy Sake I low ador'd, And for thy Ease did humbly call. Let chearful Hope thy Soul inspire; Let Faith sustain thy troubled Mind; One contrite Tear will quench his Ire, And move thy Maker to be kind· No hallow'd Straws nor Bones you need, No Virgin's Milk, nor Merits vain: One rosy Drop which Christ did bleed, Will sooth thy Sorrow and thy Pain.