1 When, overwhelmed with grief,
My heart within me dies;
Helpless, and far from all relief,
To heav’n I lift mine eyes.
2 O lead me to the rock
That’s high above my head;
And make the covert of thy wings
My shelter and my shade.
3 Within thy presence, Lord!
For ever I’ll abide:
Thou art the tower of my defense,
The refuge where I hide.
4 Thou givest me the lot
Of those that fear thy name;
If endless life be their reward,
I shall possess the same.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | When overwhelm'd with grief |
Meter: | S. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1814 |
Topic: | Duties of Piety |