Psalm Xlh, Part 2

I shall yet record His praise -.
I shall thank Him for His grace,
When He makes His face to shine
On this drooping soul of mine.

Yet again, O God, my God,
Sinks my soul beneath its load!
Burden'd, and by sin cast down.
Faints Thy poor afflicted one.

Fain I would on Thee rely,

my God for refuge fly;
Ever wandering to and fro,
Restless as a hunted roe.

Deep to deep with horror calls,
While the roaring torrent falls,
My abyss of misery
Calls for all the grace in Thee,

But, alas! Thy threatenings sound,
All Thy waves and storms surround;
Over me the billows roll.
Swallow up my sinking soul.

Unto God, my Rock, I say,
"Why dost Thou so long delay.
Leave me on in grief to go,
Crush'd by the oppressive foe?"

Pierced my bones as with a sword.
With the dire opprobrious word.
While they ever cry aloud,
"Where is now thy pardoning God?"

Why art thou, my soul, oppress'd?
Why so troubled and distress'd?
Cast away the heavy load,
Hope thou, against hope, in God.

I shall yet record His praise,
See again the Saviour's face;
Ascertain'd by love Divine,
Mine He is, for ever mine.