Sacra Poesis By M. F. T. [i.e. M. F. Tupper] |
A PRAYER OF THE AFFLICTED, WHEN
HIS SOUL IS OVERWHELMED. |
Sacra Poesis | ||
108
A PRAYER OF THE AFFLICTED, WHEN HIS SOUL IS OVERWHELMED.
O save me, save me from myself, for I am prone to sin,
The fiercest of mine enemies is foaming here within;
O save me, for the waters overwhelm my panting soul,
Mine eyes have lost the beacon bright that blazes at the goal,
Mine heart is dead, and cannot rise, o'erburden'd with its load,
My soul is dull, and will not lift her eyes unto her God!
Clouds and darkness thicken round, and I have lost the star,
That smiling eye of hope that beam'd around me from afar:
The wing of sorrow, hiding still the sun of glory's light
Is shrouded o'er me densely, as a pall of thickest night;
My raging foes, in fierce array, are mocking at my fears,
But, Saviour, bid me joy in thee, and wipe away my tears!
The fiercest of mine enemies is foaming here within;
O save me, for the waters overwhelm my panting soul,
Mine eyes have lost the beacon bright that blazes at the goal,
Mine heart is dead, and cannot rise, o'erburden'd with its load,
My soul is dull, and will not lift her eyes unto her God!
Clouds and darkness thicken round, and I have lost the star,
That smiling eye of hope that beam'd around me from afar:
The wing of sorrow, hiding still the sun of glory's light
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My raging foes, in fierce array, are mocking at my fears,
But, Saviour, bid me joy in thee, and wipe away my tears!
Yes, though I cannot see thee, Lord, thine arm is stretch'd around,
To save me from the storm, and all mine enemies confound;
Thine eye is watching o'er me, and is smiling on me still,
To comfort me in sadness, and to shelter me from ill;
It ever beams the same in love, through many a dreary cloud,
And veils of sin and sorrow oft its light of pity shroud.
He ever watches o'er me, as a mother o'er her boy,
For Jesus died to raise me to a paradise of joy,
And cannot, in the greatness of his mercy and his love,
Now let me perish while he lives in majesty above.
Nay, I will trust him, for the Lord is everlasting strength,
His mighty arm shall work for me, and rescue me at length.
To save me from the storm, and all mine enemies confound;
Thine eye is watching o'er me, and is smiling on me still,
To comfort me in sadness, and to shelter me from ill;
It ever beams the same in love, through many a dreary cloud,
And veils of sin and sorrow oft its light of pity shroud.
He ever watches o'er me, as a mother o'er her boy,
For Jesus died to raise me to a paradise of joy,
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Now let me perish while he lives in majesty above.
Nay, I will trust him, for the Lord is everlasting strength,
His mighty arm shall work for me, and rescue me at length.
Sacra Poesis | ||