God of my life, to Thee I call;
Afflicted, at Thy feet I fall;
When the great wa­ter floods pre­vail
Leave not my trem­bling heart to fail!

Friend of the friend­less and the saint,
Where should I lodge my deep com­plaint?
Where but with Thee, whose op­en door
Invites the help­less and the poor!

Did ev­er mourn­er plead with Thee,
And Thou re­fuse that mourn­er’s plea?
Does not the Word still fixed re­main
That none shall seek Thy face in vain?

That were a grief I could not bear,
Didst Thou not hear and an­swer pray­er;
But a pray­er hear­ing, an­swer­ing God
Supports me under ev­ery load.

Fair is the lot that’s cast for me!
I have an ad­vo­cate with Thee;
They whom the world ca­ress­es most,
Have no such pri­vi­lege to boast.

Poor though I am, des­pised, for­got,
Yet God, my God, for­gets me not;
And he is safe, and must suc­ceed,
For whom the Lord vouch­safes to plead.