XXXIX. Our Desire and Groaning before GOD, when proceeding from the greatest Distress.

MY Soul, the awful Hour will come,
Apace it passeth on
To bear this Body to the Tomb,
And thee to Scenes unknown.

My Heart, long lab'ring with its Woes,
Shall pant and sink away;
And you, my Eye-lids, soon shall close
On the last glim'ring Ray.

Whence in that Hour shall I receive
A Cordial for my Pain,
When, if Earth's Monarchs were my Friends,
Those Friends would weep in vain?

Great King of Nature, and of Grace,
To thee my Spirit flies,
And opens all its deep Distress
Before thy pitying Eyes.

All its Desires to thee are known,
And ev'ry secret Fear,
The Meaning of each broken Groan
Well notic'd by thine Ear.

O fix me by that mighty Pow'r,
Which to such Love belongs,
Where Darkness veils the Eye no more,
And Groans are chang'd to Songs.