html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os } LORD, rebuke me not in wrath,
Nor let Thine anger burn;
In pity chasten not my soul,—
Oh, when wilt Thou return?
Have mercy on my trembling frame,
That well-nigh sinks with fears;
Heal me, O Lord, for I am sad,
And wipe away my tears.
My soul, with sin and sorrow torn,
Now pants to view Thy face;
Oh, when wilt Thou, my God and King,
Return to me in peace?
Return, return to me, O Lord,
And as Thy mercies roll,
Incline Thine ear—attend my cry,
And save my trembling soul.
No thought of Thee, in Death's domain,
Can pierce the dismal gloom;
No lip can bless Thy holy Name,
When sleeping in the tomb,
With groans and sighs my strength is spent,
My heart's oppressed with fears;
From night to morn, my lonely couch
Is watered with my tears.
Mine eye, no longer fired by joy,
With grief consumes away;
My foes oppress, and, bent with cares,
I tread this weary way.
Depart, depart, ye sinful men,
The dawn at length appears;
The night is past—the Lord hath heard
My mournful cries and tears.
Yea, He at length to my complaint
Hath bent a listening ear;
Let all my foes now flee away,
For God hath heard my prayer.
E.