Thanks for being a Hymnary.org user. You are one of more than 10 million people from 200-plus countries around the world who have benefitted from the Hymnary website in 2024! If you feel moved to support our work today with a gift of any amount and a word of encouragement, we would be grateful.

You can donate online at our secure giving site.

Or, if you'd like to make a gift by check, please make it out to CCEL and mail it to:
Christian Classics Ethereal Library, 3201 Burton Street SE, Grand Rapids, MI 49546
And may the promise of Advent be yours this day and always.

My God, my God, wherefore is it

My God, my God, wherefore is it

Tune: ST. MARY (Prys)
Published in 1 hymnal

Representative Text

1 My God, my God, wherefore is it
thou hast forsaken me?
Why from my help so far, and from
my cry of agony?
2 All day, my God to thee I cry,
yet am not heard by thee;
and in the season of the night
I cannot silent be.

3 But thou art holy, thou that dost
inhabit Israel's praise.
4 Our Fathers hoped in thee, they hoped,
and thou didst them release.
5 When unto thee they sent their cry,
to them deliverance came:
because they put their trust in thee,
they were not put to shame.

6 But as for me, a worm I am,
and as no man am prized;
reproach of men I am, and by
the people am despised.
7 All that me see laugh me to scorn;
shoot out the lip do they;
they nod and shake their heads at me,
and, mocking, thus do say.

8 He trusted in the Lord, that he
would free him by his might;
let him deliver him, since he
had in him such delight.
9 But thou art he out of the womb
that didst me safely take,
when I was on my mother's breasts,
thou me to trust didst make.

10 And I was cast upon thy care,
even from my birth till now;
and from my mother's womb my God
and my support art thou.
11 Be not far off, for trouble's near,
and none to help is found.
12 Bulls many compass me, strong bulls
or Bashan me surround.

13 Their mouths they opened wide on me,
upon me gape did they,
like to a lion ravening
and roaring for his prey.
14 Like water I'm poured out, my bones
all out of joint do part:
amidst my bowels, as the saw,
so melting is my heart.

15 My strength is like a potsherd dried;
my tongue it cleaveth fast
unto my jaws; and to the dust
of death thou brought me hast.
16 For dogs have compassed me about
the wicked, that did meet
in their assembly, me enclosed;
they pierced my hands and feet.

17 I all my bones may tell; they do
upon my look and stare.
18 Upon my vesture lots they cast,
my clothes among them share.
19 But be not far, O Lord, my strength;
haste to give help to me.
20 From sword my soul, from power of dogs
my darling, set thou free.

21 From the devouring lion's mouth
my life do thou defend;
to save from horns of unicorns
thou dost me answer send.



Source: The Irish Presbyterian Hymnbook #P22a

Text Information

First Line: My God, my God, wherefore is it
Meter: 8.6.8.6
Language: English
Copyright: Public Domain

Instances

Instances (1 - 1 of 1)
TextPage Scan

The Irish Presbyterian Hymnbook #P22a

Suggestions or corrections? Contact us
It looks like you are using an ad-blocker. Ad revenue helps keep us running. Please consider white-listing Hymnary.org or getting Hymnary Pro to eliminate ads entirely and help support Hymnary.org.