1 My voice I will lift up to God,
I'll cry to God nor spare;
my voice I will lift up to God,
and he will hear my prayer.
2 In day of woe I sought the Lord;
by night in ceaseless grief
my hand was stretched out to him;
my soul refused relief.
3 I to remembrance God do call,
and then I sigh and mourn;
I with myself commune, my heart
with grief is overborne.
4 Thou dost deny mine eyelids sleep,
withhold the rest I seek;
my trouble is so great that I
unable am to speak.
5 I thought on days and years of old,
recalled my song by night;
6 I with my heart communed, my soul
made earnest search for light.
7 For ever will the Lord cast off,
and gracious be no more?
8 For ever is his mercy gone?
Fails his word evermore?
9 Is't so that to be gracious
the Lord forgotten hath;
and that his tender mercies he
hath shut up in his wrath?