And wilt Thou hear my soul's complaint

And wilt Thou hear my soul's complaint,
And wilt Thou soothe its fears,
Support it, Lord, when weak and faint,
And dry its falling tears?

Wilt Thou forget to sin how prone
Its wand'ring wishes be,
And this remember, Lord, alone —
That it was bought by Thee?

And wilt Thou bear with every doubt,
And pardon every sin,
Subdue each fighting from without,
Forgive each fear within?

I know Thou wilt! — for thus Thy grace,
Tho' oft provoked it be,
Reflected from my Saviour's face
Shines brightest upon me!