To Thee O Lord I Made My Humble Pray

To thee, O Lord, I made my humble pray’r,
Thee I implor’d, and gracious thou didst hear.
To thee alone in my distress I pray’d,
With dreadful ills when I was sore dismay’d;
To thee the live-long night held up my hands,
Nor wou’d receive the solace of my friends.
On thee alone relying, thee I chose,
To heal my heart, to dissipate my woes;
My soul with deep, with bitter anguish pain’d,
To thee I therefore heavily complain’d.
And well might I complain, for sleep no more
Wou’d o’er my eyes exert his healing pow’r;
Tho’ on my limbs a heavy stupor hung,
And my continued anguish chain’d my tongue.
‘Twas then my mind revolv’d my former days,
When thee I sung in sweet harmonious lays;
My grateful praises on the tuneful lyre,
The hymns of joy thy mercies did inspire;
With these ideas long my soul was fraught,
And thus wou’d I indulge the pensive thought:
“Ah! will th’ all-high make me no more his care?
“Shall I no more his gracious goodness share?
“Ah! will his mercy now no more prevail,
“And is it possible his truth should fail?
“Has he his great beneficence forgot?
“Will dire resentment bring his love to nought?”
Soon I repented of the vain surmise;
Thy ways of old I set before my eyes,
The ever-gracious deeds thy hand had done,
The various mercies thou hadst constant shewn;
The griefs, the dangers, thou hadst chac’d away,
The quick relief thou gav’st without delay.
Yes; sov’reign ruler, I thy justice see;
For truth, for mercy, who is like to thee?
To the whole earth the wonders of thy pow’r
Shew’d thee the universal governor.
When struck proud Pharaoh with a dread alarm
Thy favour’d tribes, them, by thy mighty arm,
Didst thou redeem; thy arm the waters saw,
The troubled depths, and they beheld with awe.
The heavy clouds obey’d thy great command,
And delug’d with their watery stores the land;
Fell thy destroying hail, thy thunders roar’d;
Their rapid fires thy forky lightnings pour’d.
And when thy people Pharaoh’s fury fled;
When Moses and his sacred brother led
Them thro’ the deep, and strait pursued the foe;
Back on the hostile bands the waters flow;
Fain they’d retreat; but their attempts are vain;
Sudden they perish in th’ o’er-whelming main:
While, as his fleecy care the shepherd leads,
Thou guid’st them thro’ the sea; the sea recedes
Stood on a heap the sea at thy command;
Secure they pass, and joyful reach the strand.