Text: | O heal me, Lord, for I am weak |
Author: | John Quincy Adams |
1 O HEAL me, Lord, for I am weak ;
My bones are vexed with pain ;
Let not thy hot displeasure speak ;
Thy burning wrath restrain.
My soul what sore vexations try !
How long shall they assail ?
Return, and listen to my cry ;
Let mercy, Lord, prevail.
2 Of thee no memory remains
In death's relentless cave ;
To thee ascend no grateful strains
Of glory from the grave :
With ceaseless pain I groan and weep,
So cruel are my foes ;
My very couch in tears I steep,
My bed with grief o'erflows.
3 Depart from me, all who rejoice
Iniquity to share
The Lord hath heard my moaning voice,
And listened to my prayer ;
What though my foes despise the Lord,
And my destruction plot ?
Vexation shall be their reward,
And sudden shame their lot.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | O heal me, Lord, for I am weak |
Author: | John Quincy Adams |
Publication Date: | 1841 |
Notes: | Public Domain. |