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;
O 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 O 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 deliverance wrought,
I know that Thou forsak'st me not!