Classic Poem

To my complaint, O God! give heed,
Hide not thyself—thy help I need;
O hear and grant my pray'r!—
I'm toss'd and rack'd with sore distress,
For taunting foes my soul oppress,
And tempt me to despair.

Harass'd, tormented and dismay'd,
My very life a burden made,
I raise to thee my cry;
My soul is fill'd with pangs of dread,
O'erwhelm'd, I sink among the dead,
I pant, and gasp, and die.

Oh for the pinions of a dove,
To bear my wearied soul above
This dark and stormy way!
Lo! then I'd mount—I'd flee afar
From slavery, tumult, strife and war,
To realms of peaceful day.