59a. God the refuge of the afflicted

1 To thee, O Lord, I raise my cries;
My fervent prayer in mercy hear;
For ruin waits my trembling soul,
If thou refuse a gracious ear.

2 When suppliant tow'rd thy holy hill,
I left my mournful hands to pray,
Afford thy grace, nor drive me still,
With impious hypocrites away.

3 To sons of falsehood, that despise
The works and wonders of thy reign,
Thy vengeance gives the due reward,
And sinks their souls to endless pain.

4 But ever blessed by the Lord,
Whose mercy hears my mournful voice,
My heart, that trusted in his word,
In his salvation shall rejoice.

5 Let every saint, in sore distress,
By faith approach his Saviour God;
Then grant, O Lord, thy pard'ning grace,
And feed thy church with heavenly food.

Text Information
First Line: To thee, O Lord, I raise my cries
Title: God the refuge of the afflicted
Meter: Long Metre
Language: English
Publication Date: 1791
Scripture:
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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