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7, 6

Wm. Walker


I am a great complainer, that bears the name of Christ;

Come, all ye Zion mourners, and listen to my cries:

I've many sore temptations, and sorrows to my soul;

I feel my faith declining, and my affections cold.


O Lord of life and glory, my sins to me reveal,

And by thy love and power, my sin sick soul be healed;

I thought my warfare over, no trouble I should see;

But now I'm like the lonely dove, that mourns on the wavering tree.


I wish it was with me now, as in the days of old,

When the glorious light of Jesus was flowing in my soul;

But now I am distressed, and no relief can find,

With a hard deceitful heart, and a wretched wandering mind.


It is great pride and passion, beset me on my way,

So I am filled with folly, and so neglect to pray;

While others run rejoicing, and seem to lose no time,

I am so weak I stumble, and so I'm left behind.


I read that peace and happiness meet Christians in their way,

That bear their cross with meekness, and don't neglect to pray

But I, a thousand objects beset me in my way

So I am filled with folly, and so neglect to pray.

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