1 When I pour out my Soul in Pray'r,
do Thou, O Lord, attend;
to thy eternal Throne of Grace
let my sad Cry ascend.
2 O hide not Thou thy glorious Face
in Times of deep Distress:
Incline thine Ear, and when I call,
my Sorrows soon redress.
3 Each cloudy Portion of my Life
like scatter'd Smoke expires;
My shrivel'd Bones are like a Hearth
that's parch'd with constant Fires.
4 My Heart, like Grass that feels the Blast
of some infectious Wind,
Does languish so with Grief, that scarce
my needful Food I mind.
5 By reason of my sad Estate
I spend my Breath in Groans:
My Flesh is worn away, my Skin
scarce hides my starting Bones.
6 I'm like a Pelican become,
that does in Desarts mourn:
Or like an Owl that sits all Day
on barren Trees forlorn.
7 In Watchings or in restless Dreams
the Night be me is spent,
As by those solitary Birds
that lonesome Roofs frequent.
8 All Day by railing Foes I'm made
The Subject of their Scorn;
Who all possess'd with furious Rage,
have my Destruction sworn.
9 When grov'ling on the Ground I lie
oppress'd with Grief and Fears,
My Bread is strew'd with Ashes o'er,
my Drink is mix'd with Tears.
10 Because on me with double Weight
thy heavy Wrath doth lie:
For thou, to make my Fall more great,
didst lift me up on high.
11 My Days just hast'ning to their End,
are like an Ev'ning Shade:
My Beauty does, like wither'd Grass,
with waning Lustre fade.
12 But thy eternal State, O Lord,
no Length of Time shall waste:
The Mem'ry of thy wond'rous Works
from Age to Ages shall last.
13 Thou shalt arise, and Sion view
with an unclouded Face:
For now her Time is come, thy own
appointed Day of Grace.
14 Her scatter'd Ruins, by thy Saints
with Pity are survey'd:
They grieve to see her lofty Spires
in Dust and Rubbish laid.
15,16 The Name and Glory of the Lord
all heathen Kings shall fear;
When He shall Sion build again,
and in full State appear.
17,18 When He regards the Poor's Request,
nor slights their earnest Pray'r;
Our Sons for this recorded Grace,
shall his just Praise declare.
19 For God from his Abode on high,
his gracious Beams display'd:
The Lord, from Heav'n, his lofty Throne,
hath all the Earth survey'd.
20 He list'ned to the Captives Moans,
He heard their mournful Cry,
And freed, by his resistless Pow'r,
the Wretches doom'd to die.
21 That they in Sion, where He dwells,
might celebrate his Fame,
And through the holy City sing
loud Praises to his Name.
22 When all the Tribes assembling there,
their solemn Vows address,
And neighb'ring Lands, with glad Consent,
the Lord their God confess.
23 But e'er my Race is run, my Strength
through his fierce Wrath decays;
He has, when all my Wishes bloom'd,
cut short my hopeful Days.
24 Lord, end not Thou my Life, said I,
when half is scarcely past:
Thy Years from worldly Changes free,
to endless Ages last.
25 The strong Foundations of the Earth
of old by Thee were laid;
Thy Hands the beauteous Arch of Heav'n
with wond'rous Skill have made:
26,27 Whilst Thou for ever shalt endure,
they soon shall pass away;
And like a Garment often worn,
shall tarnish and decay.
Like that, when Thou ordain'st their Change,
to thy Command they bend:
But thou continu'st still the same,
nor have thy Years an End.
28 Thou to the Children of thy Saints
shalt lasting Quiet give;
Whose happy Race, securely fix'd,
shall in thy Presence live.
Source: A New Version of the Psalms of David: fitted to the Tunes used in Churches #CII