In time of tribulation, hear, Lord, my feeble
cries;
With humble supplication to Thee my spirit
flies;
My heart with grief is breaking, scarce can my
voice complain;
Mine eyes with tears kept waking, still watch
and weep in vain.
The days of old, in vision,
bring banished bliss to view;
The years of lost fruition, their joys in pangs
renew;
Remembered songs of gladness, through nights
lone silence brought,
Strike notes of deeper sadness, and stir
desponding thought.
Hath God cast off forever? Can time His truth
impair?
His tender mercy never shall I presume to share?
Hath He His loving kindness shut up in endless
wrath?
No; this is mine own blindness, that cannot see
His path.
I call to recollection the years of His right
hand;
And, strong in His protection, again through
faith I stand;
Thy deeds, O Lord, are wondrous; holy are all
Thy ways;
The secret place of thunder shall utter forth
Thy praise.
Thee, with the tribes assembled, O God, the
billows saw;
They saw Thee, and they trembled, turned, and
stood still with awe;
The clouds shot hail and lightning; the earth
reeled to and fro;
Thy fiery pillar brightened the gulf of gloom
below.
Thy way is in great waters, Thy footsteps are
not known;
Let Adam’s sons and daughters confide in Thee
alone:
Through the wild sea Thou leadest Thy chosen
flock of yore;
Still on the waves Thou treadest, and Thy
redeemed pass o’er.
