Dear Refuge Of My Weary Soul,
On Thee, When Sorrows Rise,
On Thee, When Waves Of Trouble Roll,
My Fainting Hope Relies.
To Thee I Tell Each Rising Grief,
For Thou Along Canst Heal:
Thy Word Can Bring A Sweet Relief
For Every Pain I Feel.
But Oh, When Gloomy Doubts Prevail,
I Fear To Call Thee Mine;
The Springs Of Comfort Seem To Fail,
And All My Hopes Decline.
Yet, Gracious God, Where Shall I Flee?
Thou Art My Only Trust;
And Still My Soul Would Cleave To Thee,
Though Prostrate In The Dust.
Hast Thou Not Bid Me Seek Thy Face?
And Shall I Seek In Vain?
And Can The Ear Of Sovereign Grace,
Be Deaf When I Complain?
Nostill The Ear Of Sovereign Grace
Attends The Mourner’s Prayer ;
O May I Ever Find Access
To Breathe My Sorrows There?
Thy Mercy-Seat Is Open Still,
Here Let My Soul Retreat;
With Humble Hope Attend Thy Will,
And Wait Beneath Thy Feet.
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