How long, O Lord, shall I com­plain,
Like one that seeks his God in vain?
Canst Thou Thy face for ev­er hide
And I still pray, and be de­nied?

Shall I for ev­er be forgot,
As one whom Thou re­gard­est not?
Still shall my soul Thine ab­sence mourn,
And still des­pair of Thy re­turn?

How long shall my poor trou­bled breast
Be with these anx­ious thoughts op­pressed?
And Sa­tan my ma­li­cious foe
Rejoice to see me sunk so low?

Hear, Lord, and grant me quick re­lief,
Before my death con­clude my grief:
If Thou with­hold Thy heav’n­ly light,
I sleep in ev­er­last­ing night.

How will the pow­ers of dark­ness boast
If but one pray­ing soul be lost?
But I have trust­ed in Thy grace,
And shall again be­hold Thy face.

Whate’er my fears or foes sug­gest,
Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest.
My heart shall feel Thy love, and raise
My cheer­ful voice to songs of praise.