1 To God I cry'd with mournful voice, I sought his gracious ear, In the sad day when troubles rose, And fill'd the night with fear.
2 Sad were my days, and dark my nights, My soul refus'd relief; I thought on God the just and wise, But thoughts increas'd my grief.
3 Still I complain'd, and still opprest, My heart began to break; My God, thy wrath forbid my rest, And kept my eyes awake.
4 My overwhelming sorrows grew Till I could speak no more; Then I within myself withdrew, And call'd thy judgments o'er.
5 I call'd back years and ancient times, When I beheld thy face; My spirit search'd for secret crimes That might withhold thy grace.
6 I call'd thy mercies to my mind Which I enjoy'd before; And will the Lord no more be kind? His face appear no more?
7 Will he for ever cast me off? His promise ever fail? Has he forgot his tender love? Shall anger still prevail?
8 But I forbid this hopeless thought, This dark despairing frame, Rememb'ring what thy hand hath wrought, Thy hand is still the same.
9 I'll think again of all thy ways, And talk thy wonders o'er; Thy wonders of recovering grace, When flesh could hope no more.
10 Grace dwells with justice on the throne; And men that love thy word Have in thy sanctuary known The counsels of the Lord.