Classic Poem

My God, thy suppliant hear:
Afford a gentle ear:
For I am comfortless,
And labour in distress.

Thy servant, Lord, defend,
Whose hopes on Thee depend:
From wasting sorrow free
The heart long vowed to Thee.

For Thou art God alone,
To tender pity prone,
Propitious unto all
Who on thy mercy call.

But, O Thou King of kings,
From whom sweet mercy springs,-
Then ready to be found
When troubles most abound,-

O hear my fervent prayer,
And take me to thy care;
Direct me in thy way;
So shall I never stray.