A Song of Praise for Deliverance from Spiritual Troubles

I That am drawn out of the Depth,
Will sing upon the Shore;
I that in Hell's dark Suburbs lay,
Pure Mercy will adore:
The Terrors of the Living God,
My Soul did so affright;
I fear'd lest I should be condemn'd
To an Eternal Night.

Kind was the Pity of my Friends,
But could not Ease my Smart;
Their Words indeed did reach my Case,
But could not reach my Heart:
Ah, then what was this World to Me,
To whom God's Word was dark!
Who in my Dungeon cou'd not see
One Beam, or shining Spark.

What then were all the Creatures Smiles,
When the Creator frown'd?
My Days were Nights, my Life was Death,
My Being was my Wound:
Trtur'd and wrack'd with Hellish Fears,
When God the Blow should give;
[…]ne Eyes did fail, my Heart did sink,
Then Mercy bid me live.

God's Furnace doth in Sion stand,
But Sion's God sits by;
As the Refiner views his Gold
With an observant Eye:
God's Thoughts are high, his Love is wise,
His Wounds a Cure intend;
And tho' he doth not always smile,
He loves unto the end.

Thy Love is constant to its Line,
Tho' Clouds oft come between;
O could my Faith but pierce these Clouds,
It might be always seen:
But I am weak, and forc'd to cry,
Take up my Soul to thee;
Then as thou ever art the same;
So shall I ever be.

Then shall I ever, ever sing,
Whilst thou dost ever shine;
I have thine own dear Pledge for this,
Lord, thou art ever mine.