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PSALM LXIX

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Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Apr 9, 1861

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 17, No. 21.

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PSALM LXIX.

O God, what weary hours I know, While sorrows o'er me roll, For the deep waters in their flow, Are come in to my soul.
O Lord, reproach and bitter shame Have filled my aching heart, And none who bears a brother's name, Fulfills a brother's part.
And when I sink in sorrows deep, And tremble in my fears, They still reproach me as I weep, And mock my falling tears.
Good is thy loving kindness, Lord, Thy mercies turn to me, And while I wait to hear thy word, O bid the darkness flee.
The Lord will save the sorrowing poor, The fainting he'll revive: The sinking soul he will restore, And bid the contrite live.
Let not my enemies rejoice, But haste to my relief: Darken the pathway of their choice, Turn all their joy to grief.