From Deep Distress and Troubled Thoughts

From deep dis­tress and trou­bled thoughts

To Thee

my God

I raised my cries;

If Thou sev­ere­ly mark our faults

No flesh can stand be­fore Thine eyes.

But Thou hast built Thy throne of grace

Free to dis­pense Thy par­dons there

That sin­ners may ap­proach Thy face

And hope and love

as well as fear.

As the be­night­ed pil­grims wait

And long

and wish for break­ing day

So waits my soul be­fore Thy gate;

When will my God His face dis­play?

My trust is fixed up­on Thy Word

Nor shall I trust Thy Word in vain;

Let mourn­ing souls ad­dress the Lord

And find re­lief from all their pain.

Great is His love

and large His grace

Through the re­demp­tion of His Son;

He turns our feet from sin­ful ways

And par­dons what our hands have done.