To God I Cried with Mournful Voice

To God I cried with mourn­ful voice

I sought His gra­cious ear

In the sad day when trou­bles rose

And filled the night with fear.

Sad were my days

and dark my nights

My soul re­fused re­lief;

I thought on God the just and wise

But thoughts in­creased my grief.

Still I com­plained

and still op­pressed

My heart be­gan to break;

My God

Thy wrath for­bade my rest

And kept my eyes awake.

My ov­er­whelm­ing sor­rows grew

Till I could speak no more;

Then I with­in my­self with­drew

And called Thy judg­ments o’er.

I called back years and an­cient times

When I be­held Thy face;

My spir­it searched for sec­ret crimes

That might with­hold Thy grace.

I called Thy mer­cies to my mind

Which I en­joyed be­fore;

And will the Lord no more be kind?

His face ap­pear no more?

Will He for ev­er cast me off?

His pro­mise ev­er fail?

Has He for­got His ten­der love?

Shall an­ger still pre­vail?

But I for­bid this hope­less thought;

This dark

des­pair­ing frame

Remembering what Thy hand hath wrought;

Thy hand is still the same.

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.

Grace dwells with jus­tice on the throne;

And men that love Thy Word

Have in Thy sanc­tu­ary known

The coun­sels of the Lord.