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 faint!
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 thy word still fixed remain,
That none shall seek thy face in vain?
Poor though I am, despised, forgot,
Yet God, my God forgets me not;
And he is safe, he must succeed,
For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead.