My voice, O Lord, did cry
To thee who all my sorrow knows;
To thee when none was nigh,
My voice did all my wants and wishes pour
In supplication deep before thy throne,
My trouble and complaint it shows.
My spirit was o'erwhelmed within me sore,
My soul was had in thought, by those alone
Who in the dark had planned its overthrow,
And privily a snare had laid,
To hedge my way,—
Lord then my refuge thee I made,
Thou art my stay! Attend unto my cry,
And quick deliverance show—
O Lord come very nigh.
Thou art my strength and portion in this land
Of desolation, where more strong than I,
Evil hath brought me very low.
Destroy, break loose the persecutor's band!
From prison bring my soul before it die;
Each fetter break, bend every bow!
Bountiful with thy servant be,
Be wholly mine,—
Let righteousness encompass me,
All praise be thine!