Why Has My God My Soul Forsook?

Why has my God my soul for­sook

Nor will a smile af­ford?

Thus Da­vid once in ang­uish spoke

And thus our dy­ing Lord.

Though ’tis Thy chief de­light to dwell

Among Thy prais­ing saints

Yet Thou canst hear a groan as well

And pi­ty our com­plaints.

Our fa­thers trust­ed in Thy name

And great de­li­ver­ance found;

But I’m a worm

des­pised of men

And trod­den to the ground.

Shaking the head

they pass me by

And laugh my soul to scorn;

In vain he trusts in God

they cry

Neglected and for­lorn.

But Thou art He who formed my flesh

By Thine al­migh­ty Word;

And since I hung up­on the breast

My hope is in the Lord.

Why will my Fa­ther hide His face

When foes stand threat­en­ing round

In the dark hour of deep dis­tress

And not a help­er found?

Behold Thy dar­ling left among

The cru­el and the proud

As bulls of Ba­shan

fierce and strong

As li­ons roar­ing loud.

From earth and hell My sor­rows meet

To mul­ti­ply the smart;

They nail My hands

they pierce My feet

And try to vex My heart.

Yet if Thy sov­er­eign hand let loose

The rage of earth and hell

Why will my heav’n­ly Fa­ther bruise

The Son He loves so well?

My God

if pos­si­ble it be

Withhold this bit­ter cup

But I re­sign My will to Thee

And drink the sor­rows up.

My heart dis­solves with pangs un­known

In groans I waste my breath;

Thy hea­vy hand has brought Me down

Low as the dust of death.

Father

I give My Spir­it up

And trust it in Thy hand;

My dy­ing flesh shall rest in hope

And rise at Thy com­mand.