1 To God with mournful voice
In deep distress I pray'd;
Made him the umpire of my cause,
My wrongs before him laid.
2 Thou didst my steps direct,
When my griev'd soul despair'd;
For. where I thought to walk secure,
they had their traps prepar'd.
3 I look'd but found no friend
To own me in distress;
All refuge fail'd, no ,an vouchsaf'd
His pity or redress.
4 To God at last I pray'd,
Thou, Lord, my refuge art;
My portion in the land of life,
Till life itself depart.
5 Reduc'd to greatest straits,
To thee I make my moan;
O save me from oppressive foes,
For me too pow'rful grown.
6 That I may praise thy name,
My soul from prison bring;
Whilst of thy kind regard for me,
Assembled saints shall sing.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | To God, with mournful voice |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1789 |
Scripture: |