Words: Brady and Tate, A New Version of the Psalms of David
1 To thee, my God and Savior, I by day and night address my cry; 2 Vouchsafe my mournful voice to hear, to my distress, incline thine ear: 3 For seas of trouble me invade, my soul draws nigh to death's cold shade, 4 Like one whose strength and hopes are fled, they number me among the dead. 5 Like those who, shrouded in the grave, from thee no more remembrance have; 6 Cast off from thy sustaining care down to the confines of despair. 7 Thy wrath has hard upon me lain, afflicting me with restless pain: Me all thy mountain waves have pressed, too weak, alas! to bear the least. 8 Removed from friends, I sigh alone in a loathed dungeon laid, where none A visit will vouchsafe to me, confined, past hopes of liberty. 9 My eyes from weeping never cease, they waste, but still my griefs increase; Yet daily, Lord, to thee I prayed, with out-stretched hands invoked thy aid. 10 Wilt thou by miracle revive the dead, whom thou forsook'st alive. From death restore, thy praise to sing, whom thou from prison would'st not bring?
11 Shall the mute grave thy love confess? A mould'ring tomb thy faithfulness? 12 Thy truth and pow'r renown obtain, where darkness and oblivion reigns. 13 To thee, O Lord, I cry forlorn: my pray'r prevents the early morn. Why hast thou Lord, my soul forsook, nor once vouchsafed a gracious look? 15 Prevailing sorrows bear me down, which from my youth with me have grown; Thy terrors past distract my mind, and fears of blacker days behind. 16 Thy wrath hath burst upon my head, thy terrors ill! my soul with dread; 17 Environed as with waves combined, and for a gen'ral deluge joined. 18 My lovers, friends, familiars, all removed from sight, and out of call; To dark oblivion all retired, dead, or at least to me expired.