Classic Poem

Deep sunk in floods of grief,
Unto the Lord I prayed
That he would send relief,
And thus my sad heart said:

Lord, hear the sighs and groans
That I before Thee pour,
Listen unto my moans
And help me at this hour.

If, like a judge severe,
To punish Thou be bent,
No flesh can be so clear
As to prove innocent.

But merciful Thou art,
And from all passion free;
But, Lord, it is our part
With fear to trust in Thee.

Thy word, mine only hope,
Sustains my wavering mind,
And in that faithful prop
All confidence I find.

No watchman of the night
More longeth for the day
Than I do for the light
Which Thy grace doth display.

Then trust the Lord all ye
That do Him fear and know,
For it is only He
That helps the weak and low.