1 Lord, hear the voice of my complaint,
To Thee I now commend me,
Let not my heart and hope grow faint,
But deign Thy grace to send me.
True faith from Thee, my God, I seek,
The faith that loves Thee solely,
Keeps me lowly,
And prompt to aid the weak,
And mark each word that Thou dost speak.
2 Yet more from Thee I dare to claim,
Whose goodness is unbounded;
Oh let me ne'er be put to shame,
My hope be ne'er confounded;
But e'en in death still find Thee true,
And in that hour, else lonely,
Trust Thee only,
Not aught that I can do,
For such false trust I sore should rue.
3 Oh grant that from my very heart
My foes be all forgiven,
Forgive my sins and heal their smart,
And grant new life from heaven.
Thy Word, that blessed food, bestow,
Which best the soul canst nourish;
Make it flourish
Through all the storms of woe
That else my faith might overthrow.
4 Then be the world my foe or friend,
Keep me to her a stranger,
Thy steadfast soldier to the end,
Through pleasure and through danger.
From Thee alone comes such high grace,
No works of ours obtain it,
Or can gain it;
Our pride hath here no place,
'Tis Thy free promise we embrace.
5 Help me, for I am weak; I fight,
Yet scarce can battle longer.
I cling but to Thy grace and might,
'Tis Thou must make me stronger.
When sore temptations are my lot,
And tempests round me lower,
Break their power;
So, through deliv'rance wrought,
I know that Thou forsak'st me not!
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