Am I on earth alone and friendless stranger?
When shall these days be past of fear and danger,
When shall I find some respite, some relief,
From this unsleeping pain, this haunting grief?
The joyful sun may bring another morning,
I wake to care, to conscience' voice of warning;
The soft moon comes with silent night and sleep,
And bringeth nought to me but time to weep.
My heart and soul faint, smitten by Thine arrow,
Keen as a fire that pierceth to the marrow;
From morn to eventide where'er I flee
I find no hiding-place, great God, from Thee.
Vain are my prayers, vainly I weep my errors,
While Thou dost strive against me with Thy terrors;
The zeal of Thy just anger and Thy might
Have plunged my soul in blackest depths of night.
Oh that I had a dove's swift wings, I'd hie me
To some far mountain-top where none came nigh me!
Yet could I not escape His mighty hand
Before whom all things bare and open stand.
Nay, all He sends me let me suffer rather,
Though still His angry storms around me gather;
A willing heart and patient mind, O God,
I bring to Thy severe but righteous rod.
Much have I sinn'd, and utterly I perish,
If memory of my sin Thou still will cherish;
Yet, Lord of Hosts, doth not Thy Word proclaim
The Merciful is Thy most glorious name!
Source: Chorale Book for England, The #43