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 vanish'd bliss to view;

The years of lost fruition

Their joys in pangs renew;

Remember'd songs of gladness,

Through night's lone silence brought,

Strike notes of deeper sadness,

And stir desponding thought.

Hath God cast off for ever?

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 my 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 wonder,

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,

Turn'd, and stood still with awe:

The clouds shot hail--they lighten'd,

The earth reel'd to and fro;

The fiery pillar brighten'd

The gulph 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 leddest

Thy chosen flock of yore;

Still on the waves Thou treadest,

And Thy redeem'd pass o'er.