PSALM 142. (C. M.) God is the Hope of the Helpless.
I
To God I made my sorrows known,
From God I sought relief:
In long complaints before his throne
I pour'd out all my grief.
II
My soul was overwhelm'd with woes,
My heart began to break;
My God, who all my burdens knows,
He knows the way I take.
III
On every side I cast mine eye,
And found my helpers gone,
While friends and strangers pass'd me by
Neglected or unknown.
IV
Then did I raise a louder cry,
And call'd thy mercy near,
‘Thou art my portion when I die,
‘Be thou my refuge here.’
V
Lord, I am brought exceeding low,
Now let thine ear attend,
And make my foes who vex me know
I've an almighty friend.
VI
From my sad prison set me free,
Then shall I praise thy name,
And holy men shall join with me
Thy kindness to proclaim.
