“O Lord! I am oppressed—undertake for me.”—Ps.
Lost in affliction’s darksome maze,
O! whither shall I go?
Where shall I find the peaceful streams
Where healing waters flow?
My soul! wait only on the Lord,
All other help is vain;
My wounded heart! no other friend
Can ease thy throbbing pain.
The Savior, for his sorrowing ones,
Will surely undertake;
He’ll clasp the suff’rers in his arms,
For his dear mercy’s sake:
The Christian, ’mid his sorrowing,
May evermore rejoice,
And raise, above the howling storm,
His loud triumphant voice.
Then, Jesus! Savior of my soul!
O! undertake for me;
Able and willing as thou art,
I leave my case with thee.
Since I was precious in thy sight,
I’ve known thy tender love;
And each event that comes to me
Seems calling me above.
Well, let me go; I long to go
Where those I loved have gone;
They, through the might of Him who died,
Have won the victor’s crown.
O! ’twill be sweet with them to join
In one unwearied song,
And, through our blest eternity
The joyful notes prolong.
Dear Savior! when I leave the world,
And rise to dwell with thee,
I’ll praise thee with a seraph’s tongue,
And never wearied be!