1 When I pour out my Soul in Pray'r,
Do thou, O LORD, incline thine Ear;
And let my sad Cry ascend,
To thee, my only Friend:
Hide not thy Face from my Distress,
Do thy my Sorrows soon redress;
And when I call on thee,
Vouchsafe to comfort me.
2 My Days like scatter'd Smoke expire,
My Bones consume in constant Fire,
My Heart is parch'd with Heat,
And I forget to eat:
By Reason of repeated Groans,
My Flesh will scarce cleave to my Bones;
Like mournful Owls, am I,
That through the Desarts cry.
3 I watch, and like a Sparrow mourn,
That on the House-top sits forlorn;
My Foes revile all Day,
And Snares in secret lay.
Ashes I've eat, oppress'd with Fears,
My Drink is mix'd with briny Tears;
Because thy Wrath doth lie,
On me, once seated high.
4 My Days are like an Ev'ning Shade,
And like a drooping Flow'r I fade;
But LORD, thy glorious Name,
For ever is the same:
Thou shalt disperse thy Sion's Gloom,
For now her Days of Mercy's come;
Because it grieves the Just.
To see her laid in Dust.
5 The Heathen Kings his Name shall fera,
When Sion shall restor'd appear;
When him the Poor address,
And he their Pray'r shall bless:
This shall be written on Record
That those to come may praise the LORD;
That future Nations may,
His mignty Acts display.
6 For from his holy Dwelling Place,
The LORD survey'd the human Race,
That he might hear the Cry,
Of Wretches doom'd to die.
His mighty Arm did interpose,
To release them from all their Foes,
And set the Mourners free,
From long Captivity.
7 That thro' glad Sion they might sing,
His Praise, who did Deliv'rance bring;
And at Jerusalem
Adore his gracious Name.
When all the Tribes assembling there,
And Kingdoms joining in the Pray'r,
To him their Vows address,
And GOD their LORD confess.
8 But at his Wrath my Life decays,
His Hand cuts short my hopeful Days;
And allmy Strength is gone,
E'er yet my Race is run;
LORD, end not thus my Years, said I,
When scarcely half have passed by;
But thou from Change secure,
Shalt evermore endure.
9 The Earth's Foundations thou hast laid,
Thy Hands the lofty Heav'ns have made;
And they shall pass away,
But thou shalt ne'er decay:
They all shall like a Garment fail,
And Time shall over them prevail;
But thou shalt never waste,
Thy Years for ever last.
10 The Children of thy Saints shall stand,
Supported by thy pow'rful hand;
And in they Sight remain,
Whilst thou dost them sustain.
Francis Hopkinson; grad. College of Philadelphia with master’s degree; studied law and passed Pa. bar; opened conveyancer’s office in Philadelphia; musical and literary talent; prolific writer who frequently used pen name, A. B.
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Display Title: When I pour out my Soul in Pray'rFirst Line: When I pour out my Soul in Pray'rTune Title: [When I pour out my Soul in Pray'r]Scripture: Psalm 102Date: 1767Subject: Prayers | Of the Church for her Deliverance in Persecution