Amidst Thy wrath remember love,
Restore Thy servant, Lord;
Nor let a Father’s chastening prove
Like an avenger’s sword.
Thine arrows stick within my heart,
My flesh is sorely pressed;
Between the sorrow and the smart,
My spirit finds no rest.
My sins a heavy load appear,
And o’er my head are gone;
Too heavy they for me to bear,
Too hard for me t’atone.
My thoughts are like a troubled sea,
My head still bending down;
And I go mourning all the day,
Beneath my Father’s frown.
Lord, I am weak and broken sore,
None of my powers are whole:
The inward anguish makes me roar,
The anguish of my soul.
All my desire to Thee is known,
Thine eye counts every tear;
And every sigh, and every groan,
Is noticed by Thine ear.
Thou art my God, my only hope;
My God will hear my cry;
My God will bear my spirit up,
When Satan bids me die.
My foot is ever apt to slide,
My foes rejoice to see’t;
They raise their pleasure and their pride
When they supplant my feet.
But I’ll confess my guilt to Thee,
And grieve for all my sin;
I’ll mourn how weak my graces be,
And beg support divine.
My God, forgive my follies past,
And be for ever nigh;
O Lord of my salvation, haste,
Before Thy servant die.
