1 Kings 19:13: I Ask my soul, What dost thou here

I Ask my soul, What dost thou here,
Thou poor, afflicted sojourner?
My soul returns the sad reply,
I wander, wish, yet fear to die;
The burden of the' Almighty bear,
Consign'd to temporal despair,
Throughout this endless desert rove.
And pine, and faint for want of love.

Zealous I for my Lord have been,
Against the advocates of sin
Defied the world and Satan's frown.
And thrown their impious altars down;
And now of second death afraid,
I seek the shelter of the shade.
My hoary, hated head conceal,
And life's severest evils feel.

O might the hidden God unknown,
For whom I make my ceaseless moan,
The fugitive in pity see.
And manifest Himself to me!
That still, small voice I pant to hear.
Which speaks Him mercifully near.
Covers with guiltless shame the face.
And wraps the soul in silent praise.

Speak, Lord, that I my work may know,
May suffer out my time below,
Perform Thine acceptable will,
And all Thine after-pangs fulfil;
Tell me, Elijah's God is mine,
And strengthen'd by the voice Divine,
My course I shall with comfort end,
And on the fiery car ascend.