Penitential Hymn, Hymn 4

O Father of all,
On Thee let me call,
On Thee let me wait, till upraised from my fall
My burden of pain
With meekness sustain,
And never revolt, or provoke Thee again.
Mere mercies they are
The judgments I bear,
If saved from the gulf of eternal despair:
All thanks be to Thee,
In my end if there be
Any hope of acceptance, or pardon for me.
In patient distress
My soul I possess,
Till life and affliction together shall cease;
Till the anguish and smart
Hath broken my heart,
And the mourner is suffer'd in peace to depart.
Till then I forego
All comfort below,
And no other companion but sorrow will know
My companion and guide
With me shall abide
And only in death shall be torn from my side.
A stranger to hope
I the measure fill up,
And drink the last dregs of the penitent cup.
In trouble's excess
My wishes suppress,
My pining desires of a speedy release.
If such be my doom,
To suffer I come,
To suffer an age within sight of a tomb
To continue in fear,
With comfort so near,
And live out the days of my punishment here.
Accepting my pain,
I no longer complain,
But wait, till at last I the haven obtain;
Till the storms are all o'er,
And afflicted no more
On a plank of the ship I escape to the shore.