Psalm 22, Part 1

My God, my God! I cry to Thee!
Ah! why hast Thou forsaken me,
Who still lament and groan?
Far from my passionate complaint,
Why hast Thou suffer'd me to faint,
And seem'd for ever gone?

To Thee, by day and night, I cry,
Incessant pray; but no reply
To soothe my endless care!
O Thou, that answerest not a word,
O Thou, by IsraePs tribes adored,
Regard my dying prayer!

Our fathers trusted in Thy aid,
To Thee in all their troubles pray'd.
And Thou didst hear their cry.
Our fathers were not put to shame,
But, oft as they invoked Thy name,
They found deliverance nigh.

But I, a slighted worm, in vain
For help unto my God complain;
The help I cannot find;
Cut off, alas! from all relief,
A wretched man of hopeless grief.
The outcast of mankind!

All those that see me bruised and torn,
Rejoice and laugh my soul to scorn.
And aggravate my load;
They glory in their cruel deed,
Shoot out the lip, and shake the head,
And mock my trust in God.

"He trusted in the Lord," they cry,
"That He would save him from on high;
Let Him His own receive;
If God in him doth take delight,
He now may claim His lawful right.
And bid His favourite live!"