Amidst Thy Wrath Remember Love,
Restore Thy Servant, Lord;
Nor Let A Fathers Chastening Prove
Like An Avengers Sword.
Thine Arrows Stick Within My Heart,
My Flesh Is Sorely Pressed;
Between The Sorrow And The Smart,
My Spirit Finds No Rest.
My Sins A Heavy Load Appear,
And Over My Head Are Gone;
Too Heavy They For Me To Bear,
Too Hard For Me Tat One.
My Thoughts Are Like A Troubled Sea,
My Head Still Bending Down;
And I Go Mourning All The Day,
Beneath My Fathers Frown.
Lord, I Am Weak And Broken Sore,
None Of My Powers Are Whole:
The Inward Anguish Makes Me Roar,
The Anguish Of My Soul.
All My Desire To Thee Is Known,
Thine Eye Counts Every Tear;
And Every Sigh, And Every Groan,
Is Noticed By Thine Ear.
Thou Art My God, My Only Hope;
My God Will Hear My Cry;
My God Will Bear My Spirit Up,
When Satan Bids Me Die.
My Foot Is Ever Apt To Slide,
My Foes Rejoice To Seet;
They Raise Their Pleasure And Their Pride
When They Supplant My Feet.
But Ill Confess My Guilt To Thee,
And Grieve For All My Sin;
Ill Mourn How Weak My Graces Be,
And Beg Support Divine.
My God, Forgive My Follies Past,
And Be For Ever Nigh;
O Lord Of My Salvation, Haste,
Before Thy Servant Die.
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