1 To thee, my God and Saviour, I
By day and night address my cry:
Vouchsafe my mournful voice to hear,
To my distress incline thine ear.
2 For seas of trouble me invade;
My soul draws nigh to death's cold shade.
Like one whose strength and hopes are fled,
They number me among the dead.
3 Like those who, shrouded in the grave,
From thee no more remembrance have;
Cast off from thy sustaining care,
Down to the confines of despair.
4 Thy wrath has hard upon me lain,
Afflicting me with restless pain:
Me all thy mountain waves have prest,
Too weak, alas! to bear the least.
5 Remov'd from friends I sigh alone,
In a loath'd dungeon laid, where none
A visit will vouchsafe to me,
Confin'd, past hopes of liberty.
6 My eyes from weeping never cease;
They waste, but still my griefs increase:
Yet daily, Lord, to thee I've pray'd,
With outstretch'd hands invok'd thy aid.
7 Wilt thou by miracle revive
The dead, whom thou forsook'st alive?
From death restore thy praise to sing,
Whom thou from prison would'st not bring?
8 Shall the mute grave thy love confess?
A mould'ring tomb thy faithfulness?
Thy truth and pow'r renown obtain,
Where darkness and oblivion reign?
9 To thee, O Lord, I cry, forlorn,
My pray'r prevents the early morn.
Why hast thou, Lord, my soul forsook,
Nor once vouchsaf'd a gracious look.
10 Prevailing sorrows bear me down,
Which from my youth with me have grown;
Thy terrors past distract my mind,
And fears of blacker days behind.
11 Thy wrath hath burst upon my head,
Thy terrors fill my soul with dread;
Inviron'd as with waves combin'd,
And for a gen'ral deluge join'd.
12 My lovers, friends, familiars, all
Remov'd from sight, and out of call;
To dark oblivion all retir'd,
Dead, or at least to me expir'd.
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