Where, my soul, is now thy boast?

Where the sense of sin forgiven?

Destitute, tormented, lost,

Down the stream of nature driven,

Crush’d by sin’s redoubled load;

Where, my soul, is now thy God?

Far from me my God is gone,

All my joys with Him are fled,

Every comfort is withdrawn,

Peace is lost, and hope is dead;

Sin, and only sin I feel,

Pride and lust, self-will and hell.

Did I then my soul deceive?

Rashly claim a part in Thee?

Did I, Lord, in vain believe,

Falsely hope Thou diedst for me?

Must I back my hopes restore,

Trust Thou diedst for me no more?

No—I never will resign

What of Thee by faith I know;

Never cease to call Thee mine,

Never will I let Thee go:

Be it I my soul deceive,

Yet I will, I will believe.

Though I groan beneath Thy frown,

Hence I will not, cannot fly;

Though Thy justice cast me down,

At thy mercy-seat I lie;

Let me here my sentence meet,

Let me perish at Thy feet!